Iron Beta 3: What to do When your World Explodes
by IronSparrow99
Summary: Taylor Stark is back again. This time, she's running from a lot of things: a robot she created, her ghosts, a few important people that can - and want to - kill her...you know, just the usual. Nothing new, really.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Can't catch me!" I shout over my shoulder and laugh as I weave through the New York crowd.

"Bet I can!" A male voice behind me gleefully shouts, and I can hear sneakers slap the pavements even over the hustle and bustle of the city.

I cheer as I skid to a stop in front of glass-paned café, the banner reading _Bluebird Burgers._

Arms close around my waist from behind as I whirl to face my boyfriend of just under one year, Clint Barton.

He smiles and brushes a kiss onto my nose. "Told you I could catch you."

"I still got here first." I point out, poking his chest.

He shrugs. "Whatever. Let's go get some burgers."

I nod and take his hand as we step inside our favorite café. I wave to Sharon, our usual waitress, and she comes right over and leads us to a table for two.

"Taylor, Clint, always good to have you. Will it be the usual?" Sharon asks with a smile as she sets down our silverware and menus, just in case.

I grin as Clint pulls out my chair. "Yeah, Sharon, thanks."

She shakes her head. "No, thank _you_ for coming back. One Cupid Special, a Dr. Pepper, and a Coke coming right up. Your menus?"

We hand our menus and she whisks away towards the kitchen. I lean back into my chair, using Clint's propped up legs as a footstool. We love this little café, we know the owners by name.

"Can you believe it's almost been a year?" Clint asks thoughtfully.

I shake my head with a smile. No, I can't believe it's almost been a year since Clint asked me out in front of my dad and the rest of the Avengers. "I can scarcely believe I've put up with you for so long."

Clint snorts. "Oh ha, ha, very funny. More like _me_ putting up with _you_."

I gasp and put my hand over my heart in a gesture of mock offense as I flick my napkin at him.

He grins and dodges the napkin just as Sharon approaches with our food.

"Cupid Special, one plain cheeseburger, one hamburger with everything, one order of fries. Enjoy you guys."

"Thanks, Sharon." She nods and walks away to tend to the other customers.

I munch absently on my fries as small talk is exchanged, half my mind going over some schematics my dad had asked me to look at for one of our projects.

"Taylor?"

I jerk my head up, a fry hanging out of my mouth, as Clint calls my name.

"What?

He chuckles and reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. "Is your brain stuck in the lab again?"

I blush and nod sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry. There's this one project…" I trail off as Clint nods and leans over to kiss me.

"I understand. And I'm flattered that you dragged yourself out of the cave to have lunch with me." He deadpans.

I snort as I roll my eyes and fling a fry at him. "Don't get a big head, bird boy. I had to get fresh air before I suffocated on oil fumes."

"Oh, so the only reason you emerged is so you don't die? I see how it is." He teases as he narrows his eyes playfully. "And I think the big head is yours, Ms. 198 IQ."

"Just shut up and eat your food."

He sits back and picks up his burger and I return to my fries.

Until I'm pulled out of my thoughts again, this time by my phone rattling the table and blasting out _Iron Man _by Black Sabbath. I glare at it and sigh as I look at it, then Clint, and then my phone again.

Clint sighs resignedly. "Go on, answer the phone. I swear, if your dad got his shirt stuck in the blender again…"

I sigh as I stand and head for the door, glancing over my shoulder to reply. "Then I'll blast him into tomorrow, okay?"

Clint nods and I push open the door and round the corner of the building and lean against the rough brick wall and press the answer button.

"Can't a nineteen year old have a date with her boyfriend in peace?"

"_Well hello to you too."_

"Dad, if it's the blender again..."

"_No. Much more serious, I swear."_

"So your shirt is stuck in the fridge?"

"_Taylor. Seriously, quit with the sarcasm."_

I immediately freeze as my breath catches in my throat. _My dad is refusing sarcasm? Oh my god, oh my god, what is going on, what-_

"_Taylor? You there?"_

"Oh. I'm – I'm here. I'm good. What's going on?"

"_S.H.I.E.L.D. is going on. They're interested, per say, in IGUM. Jarvis has been compromised."_

"Jarvis? Those low down, AI snatching, sons of-"

"_I know, Tay. I'm assembling the Dream Team. Get here yesterday, bring Clint too."_

"Got it. Beta out."

I hang up the phone and go back inside to grab my jacket.

Clint glances up at me. "Tay, what's going on? Your have business in your step and fire in your eyes. Hey, where are you going?"

I shrug my jacket on. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is sticking their nose where it doesn't need to be and I need to be at home."

He stands, shooting me a confused glance or three as I storm towards the door. "Taylor, S.H.I.E.L.D. being nosy is nothing new. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."

I pause with the door half open and look back over my shoulder. "It's different when S.H.I.E.L.D. decides to steal Stark tech."

I sprint out, not bothering to see if Clint followed, and zip up my jacket, using my phone to pull a local back up drive of Jarvis and press a few buttons to call my bike from where I left it a few blocks back.

It zips through traffic and zooms up to the curb. I grab my helmet from the back and slam it over my head, the holoscreen coming to life as I jump onto the bike and start it up.

I crank the throttle and take off at full speed. Full speed being about two hundred miles an hour, mind you.

Nobody steals my family AI with me knowing. Seriously, are villains stupid?

**A~A~A**

"So someone tell me something." I say as I briskly walk into the main lab to find myself surrounded by the self-dubbed "Dream Team".

The Dream Team is made up of five of the best minds in the world. Me, my dad, Bruce Banner, Betty Ross, and Jane Foster. Equations were scribbled and every free whiteboard or chalkboard. There were at least ten microscopes in the room and I had to step over half built, grease slicked machines to join the other four occupants of the room.

"At about eleven thirty this morning, Jarvis detected an unknown worm in the main server with a S.H.I.E.L.D. address tag. At about eleven forty five, before he could flush the worm out, Jarvis was forcibly taken offline." my dad states in the monotone voice he uses for board meetings.

"I traced the worm's path," Jane continues, "and followed it towards the no-longer encrypted files on IGUM, project DT-Omega."

I take a sharp in a breath. IGUM, or Intelligent Global Unity Machine, is the result of a year's worth of work between the five of us, designed to be the ultimate diplomat and negotiate treaties, business deals, and anywhere else peaceful words are needed.

And S.H.I.E.L.D. is putting their grubby fingerprints on it.

I sigh and start to pace as I run my sweaty hands through my hair. "Any idea on intent?"

"Well," Bruce interjects from his seat atop a lab table, "I don't think they're aiming to make unicorns be happy neighbors with butterflies."

I glare at Bruce as Betty speaks up from next to him. "What Bruce is trying to say, is it's obviously malicious. S.H.I.E.L.D. is probably look to utilize IGUM for their own purposes."

"So making assassins make friends?" my dad sighs from behind my shoulder.

Jane, Betty, and Bruce all nod resignedly.

"So, what you're saying is, we made an all-powerful peacekeeping, AI equipped robot for _purely good _purposes, and a government agency known for the exact opposite has their hands on it and is probably using it to take over the world or something to that extent?"

"…yup, that just about sums it up."

I sigh deeply.

Face, meet palm.

**A/N**

**Welcome to Iron Beta 3: What to do when your world explodes, the sequel to Iron Beta 2: All is fair in Love and War!**

**Taylor is 19 here, in case you didn't catch that, and it takes place after the Australia debacle.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"What the _hell_, Fury?!" I scream at the monitor in front of me, showing the indifferent face of Director Nick Fury.

My dad places a hand firmly on my shoulder and shoots me a glance that clearly says _not right now. Listen before you explode._

I dip my head slightly and take a step back, concentrating on regulating my breathing as my dad carried on a conversation with the director.

"Director Fury, to what do I owe this displeasure?"

"Mr. Stark, _you _called _me._ In the middle of a very busy day and a few new projects, I might add. Why?"

"Would one of those new projects belong to someone else, by chance?" my dad lifts an eyebrow and tilts his head, leaving the implications of his question hanging in the tense air.

"No, Stark, they would not. You started project IGUM under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s justification, and that makes it ours."

"Wait, hold up." I raise my hands and step forward. "What do you mean, _started under your justification_? IGUM was started approximately a year ago, Director. Last I checked, the Avengers split from S.H.I.E.L.D. about _four _years ago. How is it possible that we started something three years after we left and it still belongs to you?"

Director Fury doesn't answer me, just trains his eye at something over my shoulder. I turn to see my dad shifting his weight from foot to foot, scratching his head and just looking like the picture of uncomfortableness. I cross my arms and glare at him. "Dad?"

He sighs and slumps his shoulders. "The truth is…IGUM, the original version, was started about five years ago. Under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s reign. When we rediscovered the files, I just thought it would be a good idea to act surprised at the "new project" so nobody would get S.H.I.E.L.D. involved."

_A little too late, don't you think?_

I clench my teeth and growl, sending my harshest glare his way before turning back to the monitor. "Director, I understand that IGUM started under your control, but that was just a few files on the back burner. We had no real need for a machine of its kind. Now, IGUM is a highly sophisticated piece of machinery born out of the minds of the five smartest people on the planet. We are working on patents-"

"_Working on_, Ms. Stark, not obtained yet. Which means the robot still belongs to its rightful owners. Now, you have two choices: give up the rest of the files and materials peacefully and see no more of it nor us, or you can put up a fight and be arrested and put in a maximum security jail for obstruction of evidence and keeping government property out of government hands. Your choice."

I bite my lip and glance at my dad, only to see his glancing back at me, his eyes filled with determination and stubbornness. I raise an eyebrow and he gives an almost imperceptible nod.

I clear my throat. "Well, I'm going to go talk to Bruce, Betty, and Jane, so…"

I walk towards the door, but as soon as I am out of camera range, I duck behind the monitor, in my dad's line of sight but out of Fury's, and open my laptop, keying in code and slipping through cracks in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s firewalls and searching for the files that should really only be in a good guy's hand.

I periodically glance over the screen at my dad, who nonchalantly glances at me every now and then, stalling Fury as long as possible.

I recognize another voice on the monitor and glance up at my dad, who is watching the screen with barely widened eyes.

Then Director Fury speaks again, and chills race up my spine. "Mr. Stark, do not think I am not aware of your attempt to retrieve _our_ files. You want to play this the hard way? Alright. Agents will be by soon to detain you, your daughter, your suits, and all of your tech. Good afternoon."

I can hear the monitor sizzle with static as my laptop screen flashes red warning signs before going black.

I let out a shaky sigh as I run my hands through my hair. "They found us."

"Yep."

"So we're fighting?"

"Duh."

"I'll go tell the team."

**A~A~A**

"Guys!" I burst through the vent cover and land in what looks like the middle of a baseball game.

"Oh, hey Taylor." Steve mumbles around a mouthful of popcorn. "What's up?"

"A lot, Steve." I pant. "So did my dad tell you how S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted IGUM?"

"_What? _No!" Bruce, Betty, and Jane all exclaim as they leap out of their seats, baseball all but forgotten.

"Yes. Honestly, did we expect much else?"

Everyone shakes their heads reluctantly.

"Well, long story short: they tried, we yelled, they argued, we fought, they threatened, we tried to hack, they found us, and now my dad and I are fugitives, so…"

"What?!" It's Clint who's out of his seat now.

I open my mouth to explain a little deeper, but my dad bursts out the elevator, looking like he just ran a marathon.

"Taylor, I have…locked up the suits…protocol Alpha-Zulu…yours need a bio scan. Level M-5."

I nod and head towards the elevator. "While I am securing that, can you explain this to them?"

My dad nods, and I ride the elevator down to level Minus 5, or five stories below ground. I enter a code on a keypad by one door, repeat for doors two through six, and then step into the epicenter of cyber security and server backup for Stark Tower.

I walk over to a keypad with a microphone, let it scan my eyes, thumbprint, and wince as it pricks my finger for a blood sample.

"On voice recognition of Taylor Maria Stark, activate Protocol Alpha-Zulu, endgame twelve-one-nineteen-twenty."

The computer in front of me hums and vibrates for a moment before replying "Voice Authorization certified. Lockdown initiated."

A wall to my left, the doomsday storage center for my suits, turns to solid vibrainium with reinforced steel bars on top as a light on the computer flashes blue, blue, blue, and then green.

"Lockdown complete."

I nod and exit the six doors and back up the elevator. When I re-emerge into the living room, I stumble slightly as a normal looking small black pack is thrust at me.

I smile as I recognize it as Beta IV, my main stealth suit. I shoulder it and accept my weapons pack as I take a look around the room.

My dad is wearing a hoodie, baseball cap, jeans, and sunglasses to hide his memorable face. Clint and Natasha are watching the doors with their weapons primed. Steve is wearing civilian clothes, but he hold a portfolio that I know for a fact contains his shield. And I can see the bulge of a gun under his left jacket shoulder, which is a strange occurrence in itself. Bruce and Betty are dressed like a typical suburban couple, meaning khakis and t-shirts, looking ready to slip into a crowd at a moment's notice. Thor is dressed like a guy from California, his hammer probably in the pack on his back. Jane looks like Betty, and I'm surprised to see Darcy in the corner, fixing her hair over a typical teenage girl's dress.

I accept the nondescript, black hoodie and sweatpants I am given, pulling the hood over my head and jumping into the pants as we walk briskly out the back door to where a rusted red minivan is waiting.

As Steve pulls away from the curb, I glance out the window to just barely catch the tip of a jet wing disappear onto the roof of the tower.

Just in the nick of time.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Darcy, surrender the IPod!"

"No! My baby! Nooo!" Darcy wails dramatically.

I roll my eyes and tug again. Darcy and I were currently engaged in a fierce battle for her IPod, which was traceable and sort of defeated the purpose of hiding.

I glance at Jane for help, and she nods as she pokes Darcy between the shoulder blades, causing Darcy to let go and me to go flying into the back of Steve's seat. I eventually uncurl myself and hand the IPod to my dad in the passenger seat, who takes it and puts it in a lead lined bag with all the other electronics.

I wiggle back into my seat. I had quickly found out that minivans were not made for ten people, two of which were bigger than your average bodybuilder. Currently, Steve was driving, my dad was in the passenger seat, I was in the middle row behind Steve, Jane was behind my dad, and Darcy was between Jane and I. Luckily for us, the van's back row curved to make a u-shaped bench, fitting the remainder of the team. Clint was directly behind Jane, Thor was near the center, and Bruce was directly behind me with Betty in between Bruce and Thor, asleep on Bruce's shoulder. Natasha was curled at Clint's feet against the seat, a duffel bag being used as a pillow.

"Here, guys." my dad grabs a few boxes from underneath his seat. "Burn phones."

I take a box and pass the rest to the back, opening the cardboard to be greeted with a dinosaur of a phone, with a slide out keyboard and everything. I make a noise of vague disgust and look up at my dad, who sends me a sympathetic look but shrugs and holds up his own brick – _ahem,_ phone.

I sigh as Thor's voice booms from behind me. "I do not understand your Midgardian terms. Is one supposed to put the beeping device in a fire to activate its magical properties?"

Everybody groans quietly as Jane is the one to speak up in a gentle tone, the likes of which are probably used ninety nine percent of the time on toddlers. "No, Thor, you don't _literally _burn the phone. It's only called that because nobody can trace it to us and we can get rid of it easily."

A look of dim comprehension spreads over Thor's face and his phone disappears into his shorts pocket.

"Um, guys?"

"Yes, Darcy?" Steve glances in the rear view mirror.

"Where are we going?"

The car falls silent. It looks like nobody had really considered where, exactly we were headed, we all just knew we needed to leave, and quickly.

My dad is the first to offer a solution, however uncertain. "Um, I have houses in-"

"No." Bruce cuts him off. "If there's one thing I learned from my time running from Special Forces, it's never go back to where you've been already. You only have so many houses, Tony, and the one we used last year, before Utah, has been discovered."

My dad looks mildly put out. "Brucey, I have houses everywhere, we could-"

"No, Tony." Natasha speaks up, and I glance back to see her fully awake and alert, sitting cross legged at Betty's feet. "One of the first rules S.H.I.E.L.D. teaches a spy is to never go back to a place that you've been to in the past. Before you say anything, yes I know we split and they currently want our heads, but we – Clint and I – still follow a few guidelines, and they have a valid point here."

My dad sighs and nods resignedly.

"So where do we go?" Steve sighs quietly from the driver's seat.

"Well," Clint's voice is quiet and slightly shaky, "we could go to Naomi and Chester's house."

I shoot my boyfriend a confused glance as Natasha is the only one to reply. "Clint…are you sure?" She lays a hesitant hand on his knee.

"Yes." Clint's answer is short and clipped and final.

I frown because this is one of those things keeps close to the vest that even _I _am clueless about. Not that I'm upset about that, I just don't like it because those subjects usually involve someone who hurt him in some way.

"Okay then. Steve, at the next rest area, let me drive please."

Steve nods slowly and glances at Clint in the rear view mirror as the team trades confused glances.

Just where, exactly, were we headed?

**A~A~A**

"Taylor, wake up."

I shrug off the hand gently rubbing my shoulder and burrow my face back into my hoodie.

"Come on, get up, we're here."

I crack open an eye to be met with brown eyes I know very well. "Dad?"

"Yeah, come on."

I stretch and yawn as I hop out of the van, pulling my hoodie over my head just in case.

My dad hands me Beta IV. "Clint has your weapons pack, but I figured you would want to watch this."

I nod and yawn again as I take in our destination. I was looking at a house that was big but not quite mansion sized, surrounded by thick trees, leaves scraping the ground under my sneakers. I fail to see a drive way of any sort, so either there is one but it's well hidden, really long, of there isn't one.

The short walk up to the house ends on a classic front porch, peeling wooden railing included. Clint shifts the bags in his hands and knocks four times, quick and precise, on the wooden door, pausing and knocking two more times before the door swings open.

We all shuffle inside to be met with a modest living room, nothing spectacular. Just a dimly lit room with a few ratty couches and a tiny T.V.

To the left of the living room lies a kitchen/dining room, a half wall separating it from the living room. In between the living room and kitchen, a staircase leads to the second floor, presumably containing a few bedrooms and bathrooms.

"Well, I guess there are worse places to be running from the law." I surmise as I take in the quaint house.

The rest of the team nods as Clint claps his hand to get everyone's attention. "Does anyone mind me assigning rooms?" Everybody shrugs, so Clint takes that as a no and goes ahead. "Taylor, Natasha, and Darcy are in the left front bedroom upstairs. Bruce and Betty are in the back left bedroom. Thor and Jane, back right. I'm getting the front left and Steve and Tony are sharing the one down here. Sound good?"

Everyone nods and goes to put their bags down.

About half an hour later, we're all sitting around the grainy T.V. watching an eighties movie with horrible audio, weapons primed, as a thought crosses my mind.

"Clint, Tasha?"

"Yeah?"

"Do I want to know why this place stood out?"

Clint and Natasha sigh as someone mutes the show and we all turn to the two spies.

Clint glances at Natasha, his expression unreadable, and she nods and begins the story.

"Well, it's sort of a failsafe. Clint and I have never been here before, but it was on a list of safe places in case of emergencies, given to us by…um…"

"By who, Tasha?" Steve gently asks.

"Coulson." Sharp breaths are sucked in all around the room. "He knew we would eventually do something insane enough to warrant a list of safe places, or at least as safe as we can get."

Clint smirks. "He was always thinking ahead. Naomi and Chester are aliases, fake names used to dissolve any connections to Black Widow and Hawkeye."

"And the media." my dad adds, and I nod in agreement.

"Right." Clint nods. "Proves my point. We're currently in an undisclosed location that not even Fury himself knows about, in what is supposedly 'Chester's' grandpa's-uncle's-father's inherited home."

I smile a little and lean over to peck Clint on the cheek. "Well, thank god for Coulson."

Everyone nods.

Darcy yawns. "Can we go to sleep now? You won't…like me when I'm cranky."

We all nod, and I sway on my feet as the adrenaline from the day fades and I realize how tired I am. Natasha helps Darcy and I up the stairs and towards our bedroom.

I'm out before my head hits the pillow, not even bothering to change.

First day as a wanted criminal: success.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The next morning, the first thing I hear is a bang.

My instincts wake up before my brain, and I grab the pistol under my pillow and point it at the bedroom door. And my brain jump starts as I blink the sleep out of my eyes and realize I've got a gun trained on the blue light of an arc reactor – my dad. I click the safety back on and set the gun on the nightstand as I rub my eyes and look around the room.

Natasha is somehow fully awake and alert, standing next to her air mattress at the foot of the twin beds and just lowering her pistol to set it on the foot of Darcy's bed. Darcy is in that zombie-like state between awake and asleep, her half-lidded eyes fluttering as she drops her tazer.

"Uh, sorry. I just wanted you to know that Clint, Steve, and Bruce are making breakfast downstairs. Blame Clint, he told me to come wake you up." my dad mumbles before spinning on his heel and racing back towards the stairs.

I yawn as I untangle myself from the sheets, trotting over to my bag and looking for some clothes. Darcy murmurs something unintelligible and falls, face first, back onto her pillow. Natasha is moving around the room like she's been up for hours, not minutes, though she is just a bit slower and her normally pristine hair is a mess.

I finally pull out an old tank top, some worn out jeans, and a purple sweatshirt with an arrow pierced heart on the front and 'Hawkeye' in big block letters, sports jersey style, on the back. It's not mine, technically, but Clint let me borrow it a few months ago and he hasn't asked for it back. I don't think he will anytime soon, I'm pretty sure he likes me wearing it.

I grab the clothes and head out of the room to the small bathroom down the hall, quickly changing clothes. I make sure my hair is not a complete rat's nest – not that anyone cares otherwise – and banish my morning breath before jogging downstairs towards the sound of people.

I follow the laughter to the main kitchen area, padding quietly out and leaning on the doorframe to observe and wait until someone sees me. Clint spins around with a box of cereal in one hand and a skillet with eggs in the other about a minute later and smiles, causing everybody else to notice me, Betty beckoning me to sit next to her at the dining room table. I smile at the biologist in a Culver university hoodie and accept the coffee she pushes my way.

I wince as I sip the coffee – cheap and watery, but we can't exactly make a milk run to the store right now, not with at least one government branch putting a price on our heads. "What do we have in terms of breakfast?"

"Clint is scavenging eggs, Bruce is on sausage duty, and Steve got stuck organizing cereal. I think Thor found some pop tarts, though." Betty replies quietly, her voice still edged with sleep.

I nod. "Leave it to Thor to find the pop tarts even when our lives hang in the balance."

Betty smiles slightly, her eyes darkening a fraction at the reminder of our fugitive status.

I cringe at my words, and I open my mouth to correct myself somehow, but Betty just smiles and pats me on the shoulder with a look that says she forgives me. I breathe a sigh of relief as I get up to gather my breakfast, kissing my boyfriend on the check as I pass him on my way to the cereal. I pick up a generic corn flake brand and douse it with a generous amount of milk and shoving a spoon in the bowl as I make my way back to the table.

Natasha and Darcy soon join us, Darcy still in her sweatpants and an old t-shirt, Natasha fully dressed and with a gun at her hip. Next is Jane, her eyes still semi-bleary and her fiery hair in a messy bun.

Once we're all awake and fed, we migrate slowly over to the couches. I'm sitting cross legged on the floor, leaning against my dad's legs, watching Bruce slowly flick through static-filled channel after channel, when Natasha slides a black tote towards me. "Here. I thought you might want to put this together."

I peek into the bag and a grin lights up my face as I recognize a pile of black metal parts. I gently dump the parts on the rug, letting my hands fly over my new puzzle as I tune out the room.

**A~A~A**

"_-swarming around Stark Tower."_

I look up sharply from where I'm screwing on the barrel onto my almost finished rifle. The room is silent, everybody has their eyes focused fully on the grainy T.V. screen depicting a familiar building in New York.

"_Government officials arrived on scene yesterday, stating that they were there to see Mr. and Ms. Stark for matters regarding the newest Stark project. The tower, however, was deserted – the Starks as well as the rest of the Avengers were nowhere to be found. Did something happen? Is the government involved? Will we ever see our beloved heroes again? If you have seen or heard anything regarding this matter, please call NYPD at 555-678-9101."_

Someone pauses the T.V. at an overhead shot of the tower, a crowd of suited men and women creating a ring around the base level. The lobby doors are held wide open, agents pouring in and out constantly.

I inhale deeply as I watch my home being overtaken by the last people I wanted to do so. Everyone in the room is wide awake now, emotion making the air almost hum with everything from anger to worry to fear. I clamp my mouth shut as I exhale through my nose, anger at S.H.I.E.L.D. being smothered by worry. If they know we're not home, they also know we ran. They are probably hunting us as we watched this, fully prepared to drag us all into S.H.I.E.L.D. custody kicking and screaming and bloody if need be.

Steve is the first to clear his throat, making everyone but Clint and Natasha jump a foot in the air. "Well, they found where we _aren't._ Now we have to be prepared for them to find where we _are_."

I glance down at the rifle I had been building as Steve begins to pace. "Clint, Natasha, is there any way to get eyes inside of S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Steve asks.

Clint and Natasha tilt their heads with thoughtful looks on their faces. "Well," Natasha starts hesitantly, "I think there are a few people who would help. What about May-"

"No, she had been acting weird when we left."

"Okay. Hill?"

"No, too close to Fury."

"Oh right, yeah, stupid idea. Um…"

"Stillwell?"

Natasha looks pensive as she considers this. "Well, according to the legal paperwork, he was our handler, so maybe he'll help us out…yeah. I'll give him a call."

"Steve, we have our eyes inside. Jasper Stillwell."

Steve nods at Clint." Good. Now we can be kept up to date on positions, locations, and traces. Keep you guards up, people."

And on that happy note, we a settle down to watch a movie that's coming on. I sigh and return to my rifle.

I'm going to need it sooner than I thought.

**A/N**

**Please do not call the number I put above. It is fake.**

**Keep reading and reviewing and enjoying!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

You know how you find some things funny, even though they really shouldn't be, and they are truly the farthest thing from funny ever?

I was having one of those moments.

Because I find it bitterly funny that two days ago, I was in New York, laughing with my boyfriend and helping my genius friends create the next big breakthrough in scientific technology. I was worried about my dad getting his shirt stuck in the blender.

Now? I was a wanted fugitive sitting on the porch of a house in who-knows-where (a house created under aliases), watching the sun set with a newly completed AK-47 slung casually over my back, waiting for my boyfriend to bring news from our mole in S.H.I.E.L.D. about just _how many _government branches want my head.

This really wasn't healthy. Or normal, even by my standards.

I sigh and scuff my sneakers against the moldy boards of the gray, flaking porch, watching as a pebble gets flung off into the grass.

The door creaks open and I glance up at my dad. "Come on inside, Clint just off the phone with Stillwell."

I nod and except the offered hand, brushing off my jeans as I step inside and join the others in the living room.

Once he sees that we are all here, Clint clears his throat from the front of the room, quieting the low chatter that had been floating around and focusing everyone's attention.

"I just finished speaking with Stillwell." He takes a deep breath. "And he told us that the FBI, CIA, NSA, a bunch of local police departments, and S.H.I.E.L.D. of course, are all looking for us. The Secretary of Defense also holds a few personal grudges too."

My dad and I groan at that last part, my dad mumbling something about 'clown-headed idiots wanting his suit'.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "So four major agencies and most likely hundreds, if not thousands, of cops. All looking for the same ten people."

"The ten of us." Steve agrees.

I look around at the people scattered throughout the living room. "Anyone who wants to leave…sorry, too late now, you're stuck here."

Nobody looks too upset by that. Darcy even has a bit of a maniac smile on her face.

Steve nods. "Good. So what do we do from here? We need those files and we can't run forever."

My dad looks thoughtful. "We need the files, right? And S.H.I.E.L.D. has the files. Hacking doesn't work, they found us too quickly last time. I have a feeling we will have to pry them, metaphorically, out of Fury's cold, dead, hands. Do you think Stark Industries can sue?"

Everyone shakes their heads, Bruce is the only to verbally reply. "No, because for that you need your legal department, and last I checked you both went to MIT for engineering, not Harvard. In order to get your legal department, you either need Jarvis, your Stark phone, or one of your houses. You don't have any of that."

"A simple 'no' would have sufficed." my dad grumbles quietly as I roll my eyes and speak up.

"So that is a no to the suing, Could – no. Very bad idea. Um, we could…" I trail off, out of ideas that don't end up with one or all of us dead.

Steve sighs in defeat. "We'll come up with something. We have to. In the meantime, team dismissed. Keep an eye out."

I trudge up the stairs silently, the gun on my back feeling like the weight of the world.

**A~A~A**

An hour later, I'm sitting with one hip hitched onto the windowsill in the bedroom, staring out at the clear, starry sky. Balanced on my lap and spread across the floor are paper – yes, _paper_ – schematics for Beta IV someone shoved at me before we left the tower.

The blueprints do not even begin to describe the piece of awe-inspiring technology the suit is. Beta IV is at the pinnacle of stealth technology, with design input from Clint and Natasha as well as – surprisingly – Bruce (who has experience running from stealthy people). The suit is fully covered in a matte black paint, lacking the purple mask and detailing all my other suits have. All airwaves and radio signals except for designated Avengers comm units' bounce and deflect off the suit, making it disappear on radar. There are controls for me to make the blue lights from the reactor, eyes, palms, and feet not visible. I can also make my footsteps in the suit completely silent, rather than the usual heavy clanking the metal emits. I can still go supersonic though – somehow that speed aspect has become 'my thing'.

A knock on my door rips my eyes off the scattered blueprints, causing my hand to twitch instinctively towards the rifle resting against my leg. "Come in."

A sandy, dark blonde head of hair peeks its way around my door, and a small smile graces my face as Clint steps into the room, a pistol at his hip.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself."

He sticks his tongue out at me at he leans against the wall on the other side of the window. "How are you doing?"

"Not too bad, all things considered. I mean, I have my friends, at least one of my suits, and a beautiful view."

"And me, of course."

I snort but smile anyways. "You have an ego the size of Hulk."

"But you love me anyways."

"Yeah, I do." I whisper quietly as heat creeps up my cheeks. Even after almost a year, Clint still manages to get a reaction out of me when he says things like that.

Clint crosses the window to come around behind me, half-leaning against the wall as he wraps his arms lightly around my waist and places his head on top of mine.

I sigh quietly as I lean back into his chest, the steady thrum of his heart calming my nerves.

"Do you remember," Clint whispers softly, "That night on the roof? Under a sky like this?"

"Yes. We danced, we laughed, and you kissed me on the cheek and ran. Jerk."

"Sorry. I made it up to you later, didn't I?"

"Yep. Kissed me _Gone with the Wind _style in front of everybody."

"Your dad hated me for like a week afterwards."

"Wow, only a week? You lucky, lucky man."

"Well, after, you know, the Loki thing…" we both tense as I squeeze my eyes shut to hold back the barrage of bad memories from a year ago.

I'm led out the shadows on my mind by a warm pair on lips on mine. Clint pulls away, eyes shining with concern, and I realize that I'm seated on my bed and I'm shaking.

I take a deep breath and focus not on the green eyes in my mind, but the grey one in front of me.

"Thanks, Clint."

He just smiles slightly and kisses me again, sitting next to me on the bed and taking my hand. "Does that happen often?"

I shrug. "Not really. Well, I mean, yeah…but I'm usually down in the lab and my dad sees them coming, sees the warning signs. If not, then I'm alone and Jarvis helps."

Guilt floods Clint's eyes. "I should have seen the triggers, I could have helped…"

"Hey." my voice turns serious as I turn to face him. "There was no way for you to know. My dad and I both are self-taught to bury our triggers under rich person eccentricities. You couldn't have seen them, so don't beat yourself up about it. Understand?"

He nods and hugs me, slowly getting up. "Well, we both need sleep, so I should go."

I whine but nod anyways, leaning forward to kiss him before he disappears into the vents.

I quickly change and curl into my sheets, letting the memory of his heartbeat keep the fear at bay.

Until I wake up, that is.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Rafters provide a good view for all hell breaking loose.

I was curled in a shadowy corner, next to the biggest dust bunny I have ever seen, watching my teammates argue back and forth with our mole, Jasper Stillwell. Jasper was a creepy guys that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up – and the reason I was up here – but the team deemed him trustworthy, so I had to deal with him.

Jasper had popped out of the woods surrounding the house about two hours ago, sending us all onto high alert, grabbing our defensive and offensive measures until Clint cried out with a "Guys, calm down, it's Jasper!"

So instead of chopping him into little pieces and then burning those pieces, we invited him inside to sit over a cup of the weakest coffee in the world and discuss the situation within S.H.I.E.L.D.

"-and the priorities are a little skewed." I look down at where Jasper finishes his sentence.

"Aren't they always?" my dad snorts. "But what are they doing now?"

Jasper sighs and sets down his mug. "They have your robot, correct?"

"Yes, they have IGUM." Bruce confirms with a confused glance.

"They are planning to reprogram the robot so that instead of peacekeeping, it has a main goal of exterminating all of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s enemies."

I wince as my dad speaks up. "But how is that possible?! Taylor and I put firewall after firewall after extensive firewall onto that coding, and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s tech department acts like they should operate on Windows 98! They simply cannot get through the protection that is on that robot!"

Bruce steps forward to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "So they must have help. Someone smarter than them that knows how Starks build their coding."

_Note to self: check up on Justin Hammer's whereabouts._

I cringe at the thought and divert my attention to where Natasha is gathering more information.

"What, exactly, would 'all of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s enemies' entail?"

Jasper runs a hand through his hair and begins counting off on his fingers. "Well, let's see….targets, other agencies, agents gone rouge, traitors, deserters…"

We all wince at the last word. Technically, we all count as deserters, if even Fury fired us. Which means a supposedly peace-keeping robot that we designed has now be repossessed by a government agency that wants to kill us and reprogrammed by someone smart enough to pierce our firewalls to kill us.

"But we didn't put weapons on IGUM." Jane speaks up. "Why would it be a threat?"

Jasper sighs but my dad beats him to the punch. "If they have employed the help of someone smart enough to break the firewalls, then either that same person or someone equally as smart can easily modify the structural design in order to put weapons of mass destruction where they were never supposed to be."

Jane nods and pinches the bridge of her nose.

"So add our own robot to the list of people and organizations that want us found and killed on spot." Steve deadpans. "Jasper, anything else?"

Jasper shakes his head and stands.

"Well then, if that's all, then if you want to get back…" Steve trails off, unsure of how Jasper got here in the first place.

Jasper nods curtly and finds his way towards the door, opening it a crack and slipping out into the woods before the lock clicks back into place.

I rise to my knees in my nest, swinging my legs over the side and pressing a button on my wrist to slowly lower myself to the ground and another button to retract the net.

"So," Everyone jumps a little as I speak up from behind them. "That guy is creepy."

Steve sighs. "Be that as it may, Taylor, he has information we need."

"Yep. Creeper McStalkerson just told us that we're having our own tools used as weapons against us. Low blow, if I do say so myself."

My dad nods. "Low blow indeed. As if taking our toys was not bad enough, now they took them apart too. Does the phrase _rubbing salt in a wound_ ring any bells?"

Steve steps forward. "This is not about grudges anymore. Granted, grudges are acceptable, but this is now a matter of national safety."

"The Capitan is right!" Thor booms from a couch. "We must prepare for war against the robot the One-eyed man has taken from us!"

Steve cringes at the volume of Thor's voice but shows his agreement anyways. "What Thor said. Okay, here's the game plan: Tony, Taylor, Bruce, Jane, and Betty; you five need to be looking over any paper files you brought with you on IGUM. Search from an attacker's point of view; look for any weaknesses, strengths, possible spots for weapons and all that stuff. Also, see if you can get anything on who the mysterious genius is. Natasha, Clint, and I will be working on hand to hand combat skills and target practice, anyone who needs practice should come. Oh and Clint, you should also make sure Taylor's skill are still honed. Thor and Darcy, you will be making sure all the non-fighters have a command center and safe places set up. Any questions?"

We all shake our heads and disperse to various locations.

I stand and stretch as I walk to the kitchen where the smart ones are gathered.

I'm going to be sitting for a while.

**A~A~A**

"-and in order to do that, I need your IQ."

"But then you could find out who is smarter than me!" my dad whines.

I give him my best stern glare. "I don't think it will affect your swollen ego too much. Seriously, come on, you're worse than a woman and her weight."

My dad huffs. "Fine. 199."

I nod gratefully and scribble that down on a scrap of paper. "Alright, I have a list."

"So spill!" Betty is bouncing in her seat with excitement.

"Okay. This is going to be a bit of an ego inflation, but…my dad is the smartest person in the world right now. I'm second by only one point. Bruce is third with a 175. Betty, Jane, and Stephen Hawking all have a 160 IQ and it dives down from there to about a 140-ish average."

My dad is beaming, but Bruce ignores him and processes my data. "So we can obviously rule out you, Tony, Betty, Jane and I, right? And I think we would hear rumors if Hawking paired with S.H.I.E.L.D. – if it was physically possible for the guy to do so in the first place."

I groan and set my head in my hands. "Which means we got nowhere at all, we are officially thinking in circles."

"Hey, wait a minute." Betty speaks up, and I peek out from behind my fingers. "I have an idea. What if it wasn't the person with the brain but the files needed? The files are instructions, and even Thor can follow those with help. What do you think?"

I lift my head and straighten my spine. "I think our search area just got a whole lot bigger."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"I have absolutely nothing. They only one with these files are S.H.I.E.L.D., the Dream Team, me, you, Obie, and Hammer."

My dad sighs dejectedly. "And none of our team would do this. Obie is dead. Did you get the info on Hammer?"

I nod. "I called yesterday. He's still being a creepy psycho on full lockdown with no computer access. He could not have done this, it's impossible."

"Did you check up with Thor on the possibilities of influence from the magical side of things?"

"Yes, I did. Loki died last summer and we aren't getting anywhere because Thor says no one else uses malicious magic on Asgard and I don't know what the hell to DO!" My voice rises with every word and I'm shouting the last word as I slam my fist down onto the table.

I immediately pull back as pain grabs at my hand and bruises blossom. My snarls turn into pitiful whimpers and I slump my shoulders and pull my feet up, burying my head between my knees.

I can feel my dad's calloused hands rubbing soothing circles up and down my back and he begins to ramble comforting words.

"Hey, calm down. It's okay."

"No it is not."

"Good point. Well, it _will _be okay eventually. You'll see. Soon we will be back in our lab, the Iron Cave, and we can be blowing stuff up and chasing Dummy around. You can be shooting stuff with Nat and Clint and being weird with Darcy. Just you wait."

"But when, dad? When will we be able to stop hiding? Have you seen how many people want our heads?"

Silence hangs heavy for a moment as he fumbles for a response. "Soon, I promise. We _will _get our robot back, we _will _find out who this mystery is, and we _will _get home. Trust me."

I nod and we return to our papers with a renewed vigor, determined to reclaim what is ours.

**A~A~A**

The sound of pounding footsteps made me eventually lift my head about an hour after my little fit.

"Guys!" Steve bursts into the room, his hair and eyes wild as he clenches his shield. "There are black vans pulling up outside. Big black eagles on the side. Suit and be ready to go in five."

I spring up from my chair, papers spilling everywhere as I sprint down the hallway to the bedroom where Darcy is clipping a pistol to her hip.

I dig out my collapsed bow and travel quiver, which is smaller than my normal quiver but never runs out of arrows, thanks to magic. I clip my bow to the back of my belt and hand my quiver to Darcy for safekeeping. I open my suit and let the midnight black panels slide and click into place. I wait until the comms crackle in my ear before confirming my combat status.

"_This is Iron Beta reporting."_

"_Copy, Beta." _Steve replies. _"Iron Man, Widow, Hawkeye, Thor and I all fighting."_

"_Hulk?"_

"_Too big. Bruce is watching over Darcy, Jane, and Betty."_

"_Is he linked in?"_

"_Yes."_

I nod and try to buzz Bruce. _"Bruce?"_

"_Here, Beta."_

"_Good. Keep them safe."_

"_Will do."_

"_Cap, we need a plan of action." _my dad injects. _"Are we running or fighting?"_

"_Voting. All in favor of fleeing?"_

The only noise is seven people breathing.

"_Fighting?"_

"_Iron Beta."_

"_Iron Man."_

"_Widow."_

"_Hawkeye."_

"_Banner."_

"_Aye!"_

"_And me," _Cap finishes. _"Fight it is, then. Alright, here is our plan. Beta, I need you up of the roof. There should be shadows on the…western side right now. Go dark and crouch there until I give a signal, then drop from above and have at the agents. Iron Man, cover her, but stay back farther into the woods. Hawkeye, find a tree near the edge of the woods and pick them off. Keep moving to stay hidden. Widow, find shadows and use gun silencers. I'll be the most recognizable, so I'll be really just using brute force. Banner, I will signal if we need you out here. In that case, we can enact the Australia situation* and I'll send Beta to lead the girls out. Everyone in position, move on my mark."_

I adjust my footsteps to silent as I open the window and jump down about two feet to the ground. I go completely dark – no lights, no sound, stealth repulsors – as I crawl into the shadows onto the roof, crouched and ready to attack on Cap's signal. Meanwhile, I have a full view of the battlefield below.

And it is really bad.

People in dark clothing with the S.H.I.E.L.D. eagle emblazoned on their uniforms pour out the vans like clowns out of clown cars and only a few are picked off by the arrows and bullets whizzing out of the forest. Their weapons do not look normal, but I can't tell what they are from up here.

"_Move in! Move in!" _Cap's shout tears my thoughts away as I fire up my suit and blast off the roof and let repulsor fire rain down on the agents.

I flip one way to avoid a blast from a weapon and kick its owner in the head before reaching up to block a huge gun from targeting me, yanking it to the side and unbalancing the holder of said weapon, letting him go down and be trample by the chaos of the battle. I duck to avoid a foot aimed at my head, and when I do, I get a glimpse of a smaller gun about a foot away. It's glowing blue and has a skull headed octopus on the side.

"_Phase two!" _I shout into my earpiece. _"Watch out, they're using the Tesseract!" _

A nearby agent hears me, releases a feral snarl and slams a palm into my helmet, causing it to rattle against my head and give me a massive headache.

I groan loudly and wince as my teammates scream loudly in my ear, only intensifying my head pain. Once I finally blink all the dark spots out of my eyes, I realize that my suit-covered ankles and wrists are tied and I'm being dragged somewhere.

I whimper as I my side is carelessly slammed into a tree and then thrown roughly – still bound – into a clearing.

My helmet ripped off in a shower of sparks and I clamp my eyes shut against the sudden light. Once my eyes adjust, I peer slowly at my wooded surroundings.

And only my possibly broken ribs keep me from gasping out loud.

My team is in similar positions - bound and gagged, Thor lies unconscious – and in various degrees of pain. My dad's suit sparks and protests loudly with every tiny movement, his gauntlets almost ripped off by the ropes binding his ankles and wrists. Clint is hog tied, gagged, and weaponless, with a gash bleeding heavily into his left eye. Natasha lies slumped against a nearby tree – not bound but probably drugged with elephant-grade sedatives. Or worse. Steve is on his knees, bound, bruised, gagged, and bloody, his blue eyes not meeting mine, just focusing on the ground.

I feel a prick in my neck and my head starts to fog and gets heavier.

The last thing I see before it all fades is a silver badge with the letters W, S, and C.

WSC.

World Security Council.

Am I allowed to be scared yet?


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"_Taylor_."

I snort slightly as I roll over on my warm pillow and ignore whoever is trying to wake me up.

"_Taylor._"

"Zmmmgahh." I shake their hand off my shoulder.

"_Taylor_."

"Five more minutes…"

"_Taylor! Wake _up!"

I slowly let my mind return to the light of consciousness, and the first thing I realize is that my warm pillow is moving. Up, down, up down…

I lift my head slightly and glare at it, wondering if my dad had done late night science and then planted it in my room again.

But I quickly dismiss that thought because I don't think I _was_ in my room. My room didn't have concrete flooring. Or smell like mold and sweat. And I had lights – wherever I was had me squinting to make out a rumpled cloth material that had previously held my head.

I dart into a sitting position, my hand immediately going for the knife in my waistband.

And coming back empty.

I blink a few times, both to settle the panic bubbling inside me and to adjust my eyes to the dimness around me.

My gaze immediately lands on my dad, who must have been the one to wake me up. He's kneeling by my feet, his hair lacking its usual gelled finesse and blood trickling down his temple.

"Dad, you are bleeding. What – what…" I trail off in confusion as I look around.

"How much do you consciously remember?"

I close my eyes and exhale as I reach into my mind. "S.H.I.E.L.D. wanting the robot, us hiding, Stillwell-" I shudder. "-the mysterious genius, and then…"

"And then what?"

"The suit and the battle with the Tesseract guns."

My dad nods and presses his lips into a thin line. "Did you see who took us?"

I breathe in sharply as the silver badge gleams in my mind. "The WSC, the Council."

"And we have a winner. Fury's bosses – more specifically, their goons - took us in and dumped us here." He gestures around what I can assume is a cell, judging by the bars barring one side. "They knocked us all out using normal sedatives. They tore off our suits, stripped us all of any and all weapons, tranquilized Steve," he nods towards a lump in the corner, "drugged Thor," he motions towards my makeshift pillow, "and injected Bruce to the gills." He points to where the doctor is crumpled loosely against a wall, faintly muttering about ninjas, unicorns, jellybeans, and rainbows.

Yup. Definitely drugged.

"Where are Clint and Nat?" I whisper, trying to leash the panic that roars forward when I don't see my boyfriend or best friend.

"Bird and Spider are tied up over there." He points a shadowy corner, where two figures are hog tied and unconscious.

"Really, tied up? That's it?"

My dad shrugs. "Well, they did take their weapons, so…"

I sigh and quickly pat myself down. He's right, I am completely and utterly weaponless.

I glance around the cell again, and my brain registers that some important people are _not _here.

"Where are the girls?"

My dad sighs and his shoulder slump a little. "I…don't know."

I open my mouth to respond, but I'm cut off by a groan.

My dad and I both look towards where Steve is pushing himself into a half upright position and rubbing at his head.

He groans again as he blinks at us again, the glaze melting from his eyes. "What…where…"

I visually check Steve over for wounds as my dad explains what has happened.

As my dad finishes, poor Steve looks so overwhelmed and confused. His face screams _this is what happened to the world?!_

I do not blame him.

I lean back against the wall and breathe in the stale air as I wonder the same thing.

**A~A~A**

Eventually everyone is awake, although Thor is still sluggish and Bruce is now mumbling abut leprechauns and monkeys.

Strategies are thrown around, but seeing as we are all currently locked in a cell, nothing truly sticks.

Footsteps send us all onto red alert; Natasha, Clint, and I and tense and grab at weapons that are not there.

Two people come into view: a tall man with his shoulders back and chin held high, wearing a black soldier's helmet, goggles propped on his head, and all black clothes covered by a black and silver cloak not unlike Fury's. The next person is a woman dressed in black business slacks, navy flats, and a long blue cloak that hides her upper body and shadows her face. They are surrounded by two guards each, and each of the guards carries a huge rifle slash rocket launcher that has _Phase Two _branded into the side.

I mentally gulp as we all stare at our new visitors which are probably also our captors. They stop in front of the bars as we all stare at each other for a moment before the guy opens his mouth.

"Ah, hello, _heroes._ I do hope you have enjoyed your stay so far, we have given you the best in the ways of comfort." He gestures towards our cell.

"Really?" I ask dubiously. "Then I would hate to see the 'worst comfort' package."

The guy ignores me and continues his monologue. "We hope we didn't cause anyone much pain of discomfort collecting you-," I sneer – what am I, a stamp? "-but you are merely pawns in this game. We needed the pawns off the board while S.H.I.E.L.D.'s king gets…eliminated."

Steve clears his throat. "Who's _we_? Who are you?"

The guy raises an eyebrow and smirks. "My name is Senior Council Member and Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Alexander Pierce."

My dad interjects. "The council? I am not truly surprised, honestly. But S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

The guy – Alexander – laughs. "Ah, I must have failed to mention my third title. I always do that. My third title is current leader of HYDRA."

We all fall into a shocked silence as I whirl to face Steve, gauging his reaction.

And he looks equal parts confused and furious.

His normally baby blue eyes have darkened almost to my eye color – more of a sapphire – and those eyes are directed at Pierce with fire dancing within them. His fists are clenched and shaking, and I can guarantee that if hid shield was here, Pierce would be missing an important appendage or two.

Clint's voice brings my thoughts back. "HYDRA? Weren't you loons defeated in World War Two, by Cap over there?"

"Mr. Barton, have you ever heard the myth of the Greek Hydra? Cut off one head, two more grow in its place."

Realization dawns over Clint.

"Ah, yes. Now you understand. Captain Rogers killed Johann Schmidt, yes, and therefore he caused two more to grow in his place. One of those heads is within S.H.I.E.L.D., growing silently in the dark spots where discontent lives. You, the Avengers, are simply going to be locked up until Director Fury is out of the picture, then you will be released into a new world, one where HYDRA rules all and you seven will be seen as the most dangerous criminals the world has ever known. Your tower shall serve as a nice New York headquarters, Mr. Stark."

My dad snarls and then gestures towards the hooded lady, who has stayed silent this entire time. "Who's your lady friend, Pierce?"

Pierce glances quickly at the lady before looking back at us. "Unimportant. You may call her Steel. Now, I hope you all enjoy your incarceration here, I have a world to take over."

I watch through the bars as Pierce and Steel strut away, surrounded by guards.

My dad lets out a short, bitter chuckle. I turn my head and stare at him, wondering what in the world he finds funny right now.

He sees my raised eyebrow and quickly explains. "First Loki, now HYDRA. Why do snakes hate us?"

I stare at him for another moment before walking over to the wall and sliding down next to him.

"I have _no idea_."

**A/N**

**Hey! I'm alive, by the way. I'm really sorry for not updating in forever, but I literally have about three hours of internet on weekdays to read AND write all the fanfiction I can. I don't want my chapters to feel rushed and my muse hates me half the time. I'm using weekends to catch up on both this story and my Avengers Texting story. **

**Don't hate me, but please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

_Pain._

_Lots and lots of pain._

_I was standing, frozen, unable to anything but watch as Loki made my past-self bleed. I could still feel the pain, though. I could still feel the blood running down my back, I could still feel my ribs scream. _

_Being hurt._

_Watching myself get hurt._

_Completely helpless to stop any of it._

_Then everything flashed and I was standing beside myself in the ring of energy, when my dad and Clint came. More pain – this time emotional – flooded me. _

_I was forced to watch the entire exchange – the reactor sparking, Loki's sinister joy, my dad trapped –_

"_Loki, please!" I scream, but it's like I am a ghost in my own memories. Nobody acknowledges me._

_Now Clint is talking, and I get a firsthand view of the pain, anguish, concern, and unadulterated love on his face. It makes my heart skip a beat._

_He begins to kneel. _

"_Clint, NO!" I reach out but my hands go right through him. _

_Loki's staff pulses blue and everything goes dark as the memories assault my head._

_Green eyes._

_Pain._

_Blood._

_Water._

"_NO!"_

_Chest…hurts…_

_Dad._

_Clint. _

"_Loki, please!"_

_Blue light._

_Pain. _

_Screaming._

_More blood._

"_Taylor."_

_Clint? No, no, no. Clint is hurt._

_Because of Loki._

_Hurt._

_Pain._

"_Taylor!"_

_No, he is hurt, why can I hear him?_

_Water._

_Cold._

_Blood,_

"_Taylor!"_

_Stop, Clint…_

_Green eyes._

_Hurt._

"_Wake up, Taylor!"_

I scream and instinctively kick out as my eyes shoot open, green eyes being replaced by grey ones.

"You were screaming my name and something about Loki." Clint's voice is soft as he brushes my sweaty hair out of my face. Soft, real, and not hurt.

I choke on a sob as I lean my head into Clint's hand, letting him brush his thumb over my tears. Clint just helps me sit up, having me lean back against his chest.

"It's okay. You are not there, I'm not dead, there's no more blood or pain. Loki has been dead for over a year. Come back to me, sparrow."

I match my breathing to his as I let his words sink in. Loki was dead, Clint was not. I wasn't in any pain at the moment.

"That's it. Good job."

I blink a few times and use the heel of my left hand to scrub at the dried tears.

Once I get my bearings back into reality, I realize that yes, I am in a cell, but Loki is not my captor. My dad is crouched about two feet away from Clint and I, his hazel eyes flashing and his face the essence of worry and frustration.

I send a small, wavering smile his way to assure him I was as fine as I could get at the moment. His hazel eyes flood with relief and he settles back a little.

I ease myself off of Clint after brushing a quick kiss of thank onto his lips. He just smiles as I sit next to him against the wall, keeping our fingers linked.

Steve looks incredibly tense over by Thor, who is also staring at me with his arms crossed.

I just exhale and assume a mask of Stark indifference. "So," I chirp, "what did I miss?"

They see my mask go up, obviously. My dad accepts it with a frown – he can't fault me for it without being a hypocrite. Clint just frowns but he knows he will not be able to get me to soften. Natasha, Steve, and Thor just sigh lightly.

"Not much." My dad speaks up. "No food, water, visitors, or chances of escape."

I nod. "So what do we do from here?"

"From _here_?" Steve sighs. "Not much. What we _need _to do is get to the Hellicarrier and at least warn Director Fury that he has moles. He may have a gun aimed at his head as we speak."

"I will be the first to say I do not like or trust Fury." My dad admits. "His secret _still _have secrets. But…he does not deserve to die. So we need to get out of here as soon as we can and get our gear and go save him and, in the process, the remainder of the true S.H.I.E.L.D. agents."

"How are we going to get our gear?" Natasha asks. "The tower is swarming with agents and I'm pretty sure they bombed the safe house. Even if they didn't, we cannot go back."

I nod. "Pierce and Steel took our weapons, so maybe they have them saved here somewhere. Plus, how easy will escaping be? We'll be dragging a drugged Bruce and we have no idea how to get out. We're fighting HYDRA on their own territory."

Natasha looks pensive as she nods slowly. "What did you have on you during the battle?"

"My suit, my collapsed bow, all my knives and guns….dang it! I gave my quiver to Darcy before the fight. I really need to find a way to carry that."

Natasha clenches her jaw. "Well, at least you have something. The rest of you?"

"My bow and quiver along with knives and pistols."

"My shield and two pistols."

"My suit."

"My hammer!"

Natasha winces at my dad and Thor but nods anyways. "So we need to find a way out of this cell, find our weapons, and get the Hellicarrier."

"And find the girls." I add.

"And find the girls." Natasha agrees with a nod.

"So how do we get out of here?"

"We could always wait for the right guard to come and check on us and then knock him out and steal the keys." Steve suggests.

"But it's so _simple_." My dad whines.

I roll my eyes as Steve reprimands him. "Sometimes simple is best, Tony. You will get your fireworks later."

This makes him perk up. "Fireworks? Really?"

"Focus!" I snap. "Steve that could work, I guess. But where do we go once we get out?"

Clint walks over to the bars, leaning against them and tipping his head back to looks at the ceiling outside the cell. He smiles and points at something. "Well, I know where at least two of us can go."

I walk over to stand next to him. I follow his finger out to a grate it the ceiling. "Vents! Brilliant, Clint!"

I give my boyfriend a quick hug before rejoining the conversation, suggesting escape plans and inputting ideas.

Clint suddenly bursts into laughter, causing everybody to stare and wonder what the hell he finds funny.

"The Avengers are engineering their own jailbreak so they can go and rescue Fury, of all people."

"Thor, did you _accidentally _trap us in an alternate dimension again?"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The final plans for our big break were laid just as night added even more shadows to our cell.

"I still think we need comms." Steve grumbles as he crawls back into his waiting spot.

"You could have had some," I hiss, "if our ever so pleasant captors had given a few wires and some tinfoil!"

"I mean, seriously." My dad agrees from next to Bruce. "I built the first Iron Man-"

"Shhh!" Natasha shushes us from her spot in the front of the cell. "Places, the guard is coming!"

I scurry into position next to her as the cell falls silent enough for me to hear the guard's raspy breaths.

_Good_. I smile to myself. _Easier to take him down, then._

The positions are simple, really. Natasha and I the most unassuming and we're both light on our feet; Natasha will be grabbing the guard, knocking him out, and stealing his keys. The keys are then thrown to me, where I will quickly use my nimble mechanic's fingers to reach and unlock the cell door. Clint is crouched directly behind me in a runner's crouch, ready to both guard me and boost me into the vents, then jump in himself. My dad will come next with a still drugged Bruce thrown over his shoulder, Thor guarding him. Steve will come out last, at his insistence – '_haven't you heard that the captain's always the last one out?'._ I told him that was for shipwrecks, not jailbreaks, but team loyalty, I guess.

Anyways, I tensed in my crouch as the guard neared. I fought to even my breathing as Natasha, nothing but a black blur streaked with red, grabbed the guards legs and pulled them towards her and to the side, the surprise and fear just barely registering on the old guard's face before his head hit the ground with a crack that resounded through the hall. The keys barely jingle as I catch them and spring up to reach around the bars to twist the key in the lock. I silently nudge the door open about six inches and freeze, waiting and listening for any approaching footsteps.

I don't hear any yet, so I quickly dart out into the hall, getting into the right position directly below the vent cover, not even flinching as movement explodes behind me as several dark shapes join me in the corridor. One of the dark shapes comes up behind me, reaching up to tug down the vent cover and linking his hands to give me a leg up and into the vents. I crawl on my stomach for a foot or so to give Clint some room, still not making a sound while I focus on the whispers below us.

Footsteps pad to the left, so I wave over my shoulder to Clint and begin shimmying through the vents, the only sound being our breathing echoing against the smooth metal walls.

That is, until the alarms began screeching and shattered our bubble of serenity.

**A~A~A**

All silence was forgotten as we all ran like our tails were on fire, Clint and I following Steve's orders almost blindly. Screams and shout ring out from below, and I scoot to the nearest vent cover and peek out to see Natasha and Steve battling with a battalion of black clothed soldiers as Thor hustled my dad and Bruce down the hall and away from the commotion. Behind me, I could feel Clint's arm twitching for a weapon – not even his bow, just any weapon – and I knew how much he wanted to jump down and help our teammates. I send a sympathetic glance over my shoulder, letting him know that this pained me just as much, but we both knew nothing could be done to help without causing more harm.

Natasha and Steve struck down the last of their foes and we're off again, running down the hallways and taking corners at breakneck speeds.

After Natasha takes out her thirtieth guard of the night, even the untrained eye can tell she's feeling the strain of fighting without a weapon after so many years of being armed. I frown and consider signaling one of the others to cover her just as she gasps quietly, seeing something ahead that I don't. My boyfriend also sucks in a breath behind me and I mutter curses at my average, non-bird like eyesight.

I crawl in the direction of the room anyways, positioning myself just above the vent entrance. I hold my breath and blood roars in my ears as everything falls silent for a second.

Then half a minute.

Forty five seconds.

And then finally, Steve shouts for us to come down, telling us it's safe.

I release the breath I'd been holding as I quickly unhinge the cover and swing my feet down, landing in complete darkness for a moment, hearing Clint land beside me and a few curses and thumps.

"Jackpot!" Clint sings as the lights above us hum to life, causing us to blink a few times before we look around the room.

And we definitely did not squeal like little girls as we saw all the weapons in the room. Pistols, rifles, staffs, swords, guns, and was that-

"My shield!" Steve cries as he rushes forward to drag his iconic shield from behind a huge rifle. He quickly checks it over for dents and scratches as we all scatter and hunt for our own weapons. I snatch two familiar glowing blue wrist tasers off the wall, handing them to Natasha and then diving back into the pile of stuff I had been elbow deep in. I can hear guns clicking and being loaded as I pull out my holster set Thor gave me for my birthday last year, black with embroidered pearl designs to match my archery set.

I smile as I strap them on over the ratty grey sweats they put us in here, accepting two nine millimeter pistols, a throwing knife, and a serrated hunting knife. I begin to dig around again, actually cheering as I lift a bow from a pile with _Hawk_ engraved on the side. I give it to Clint and take my quiver in return, strapping it securely over my back and checking all the arrows.

"Taylor, catch!"

I look up just in time to reach out and catch a four inch wide circle of metal in my prosthetic hand. I smirk as I press a button on the metal contraption, my smirk transforming into a smile as my bow unfolds. I test the quiver controls, unscrewing and changing arrowheads to make sure the mechanics in my quiver still work.

I'm about to strap on the last of my gear when my dad shouts.

"I can't find any of the suits!" he whines as I jog over to where my dad stands in the corner of the room.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, they must have scrapped them! Or not brought them at all! Or-"

I sigh and reach up to remove my dad's hands from where they are tugging at his hair. "Calm down. We'll think of something, don't worry, we always do."

I turn slowly around, letting my eyes scan the walls of metal and sharp things for anything that can help.

They land on a jet pack in the corner.

I smile slightly evilly.

"Do you think HYDRA will miss that?

**A~A~A**

About fifteen minutes later, my dad is outfitted in the most makeshift Iron Man suit ever: a modified jet pack attached to two weird ray guns Thor found, a motorcycle helmet, and a pair of steel toed boots. It doesn't have Jarivs, of course, and we still do not have comms, so this is a feeble attempt at best, but I secure my gear and slip on a pair of combat boots anyways.

Clint and I check each other's gear and share one last light kiss before notching our first arrows and awaiting orders.

As it turns out, we're all staring at Steve, waiting for some master plan.

"Oh, um…" he blushes and stutters for an answer. "We don't really have a plan here. Just…fight like your lives depend on it and find a way to get to the Hellicarrier. Oh, and good luck."

I smirk as pistols are clicked and we all tense as Steve prepares to spring the door.

We all rush out as the door swings open, immediately met with a ring of soldiers at least three deep.

I fire my speed arrows into the ring, hearing the _thwack! _of the first impact and then the two after.

Just regular arrows manage to take out a guy, and I see the guys sneaking up on my just in time to spin and use my momentum to give him a right hook across the nose. With a metal arm that's much harder than bone.

I turn and take off down the hallway as the last soldier is taken out, Clint just on my tail.

"What are we looking for?"

"Signs that say 'deck', 'hangar', 'garage', etcetera."

"What language?"

"Any."

"Oh. So like that?"

I skid to a stop to see Clint pointing up at a sign that looks distinctly German. "It says Runway." He supplies.

I nod and smile at him. "HEY GUYS!" I shout. "WE FOUND IT!"

Silence, and then footsteps. Clint and I both tense and notch arrows, but it turns out to be friend and not foe. Clint shows the sign to Natasha as I quickly check in with my dad and Bruce. Bruce is still a deadweight and my dad is sweating, but he says he's fine so I just shrug as the team takes off down the hallway the sign specified.

Miraculously, we don't meet any guards as we burst through the thick steel doors into another dark room.

Someone finds the light switch, and then we're all staring at row upon shining row of jets. Quinjets, to be precise. Clint immediately starts towards the nearest jet, but we all jump and turn as footsteps and shouts invade the hangar.

So that's where all the guards went.

I fire arrow upon arrow and make a dent in their forces, but just barely.

A yelp catches my attention and I whirl to see Steve fall to one knee, his hands wrapped around his other calf stained red.

"Steve is hurt!" I shout to my team. "We need to leave now!"

Clint glances around at the enemies surrounding us and then sends me a dubious glance.

"We need a distraction!" my dad hollers above the fray.

Clint and I glance at each other mischievously. I notch an explosive arrow as Clint readies a gas arrow. We fire them to just above the door and hover our fingers over the trigger buttons on our bows as we run towards the nearest jet.

"We have devices primed!" I shout to my dad. "Just tell us when!"

Clint and I come closer to the jet.

Closer…

Closer…

"NOW!"

We both hit the triggers, diving towards the jet. The gas fueled explosion shoves us forwards so that we're just under the belly of the jet.

Clint flips a latch about half way up the underside of the jet. "Emergency hatch. Come on."

For the second time tonight, Clint hoists me up and I crawl onto the uncomfortably cold steel floors of the jet.

I roll out of the way and stand to the side as Clint starts the jet and lowers the main ramp, helping my dad with Bruce while Clint assists Thor with Steve.

"I need a copilot." Clint announces as he straps on a headset. "Natasha?"

He looks towards the Russian ex-assassin, but she shakes her head and I notice she's favoring her right arm. "Dislocated shoulder, sorry."

Clint sighs. "Steve?"

Steve just glares at him while motioning towards his leg.

"Right." His eyes scan the rest of us, looking for anyone suitable.

I raise an eyebrow as his gaze lands on me, just smirking and walking forward from where I was leaning against the wall as his eyes light up.

I strap on the offered headset, my hands ghosting over the controls and finding it all quite simple.

"Shall we, sparrow?"

"We shall, hawk."

We grin at each other as Clint eases the aircraft out of the hangar and up, out into the starless night.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N**

**Warning! Agents of SHIELD spoilers in the last paragraph or so.**

Chapter 11

The plane ride was fairly uneventful, save for a scream – probably Bruce fixing Steve – and a higher pitched hiss – definitely Natasha's shoulder being popped into place. Flying a jet was a bit harder than flying a suit, of course, but I got the hang of it pretty quickly.

The lights of the massive Hellicarrier eventually come into view.. They aren't expecting us – they stopped expecting us four years ago – but the glance that Clint and I share clearly says we need to show up, gatecrashers or not.

"_Unidentified aircraft, you have entered restricted airspace. State your purpose or leave immediately."_

I sigh. Gatecrashers it is.

"Agent Hill, this is Hawkeye. We need to land and quickly."

"_Barton? What are you doing?"_

"I have Beta, Widow, Iron Man, Captain America, Banner, and Thor on board and we need to land immediately. It's a matter of national security."

"_Barton, leaving your quiver in the vents is not a matter of national security. We have been over this. Put your copilot on, please."_

I smirk into my microphone. "Agent Hill, this is Iron Beta speaking."

"_Beta? What the heck are you doing?"_

"Flying a Quinjet for the first time. Haven't crashed yet. But I suggest you listen to my pilot and let us land. It really is a matter of security, Hill, please trust me."

The radios fall silent for a moment as she sighs. _"What, exactly, is the issue?"_

Clint speaks up in a deadpan tone. "The Avengers have been in a prison for the past three days because S.H.I.E.L.D. has HYDRA moles. Do not let Agent Pierce out of your sight. The agency is in peril, and we can stop it if you let us land. The sooner the better."

Silence for a second.

"_Hawkeye, Beta, this is bridge. Permission to land granted. Get in here now!"_ she orders.

I cheer. "Aye, aye Hill!"

Clint informs our teammates of our landing as I double check the control panel. "All systems are a go."

"Good. Everyone is heading to the medical bay once we land, okay?"

"Fine." I whine. "Can we just land?"

Clint nods and we gently angle the plane downwards, landing with a slight bounce among the hustle and bustle of the flight deck.

I power down the plane while Clint goes to make sure everyone can get off and to arrange for med teams if necessary. I unstrap myself, grab my bow case from under the bench in the cabin, and step out onto the tarmac, falling in step with my dad.

The hairs on my non-metal arm and the back of my neck raise as I scan the crowd of agents flowing around us, my right hand subconsciously resting on the handle of the nearest pistol.

My dad sees this and raises an eyebrow. "You okay, Taylor?"

I startle slightly and my grip closes around the gun until I realize what I was doing. "Yeah." I sigh deeply and run a hand through my sweaty hair. "I'm fine."

My dad just hums because he knows that I'm lying but he does the same thing. "Nice work back there, by the way."

I smile. "Thanks. And nice improvising with the crappiest suit ever."

My dad snorts and ruffles my hair. "So how did you like jail?"

This time I snort. "Absolutely _wonderful_." I drawl. "Really enjoyed myself. Now I know what you feel in the drunk tank."

"That was _one time!_"

"More like ten." I correct him as the doors to the infirmary swish open.

"Okay!" Clint claps his hands, drawing the attention of the med staff and Avengers alike. "Listen up. The Avengers were just…indisposed…for a few days and we all have a few scrapes, bumps, and bruises. You treated us for two years, you should remember how we operate. Tell us to leave our weapons, we snarl at you. Touch our weapons, you _will _get hurt. Should any of you forcibly grab at or for our weapons, you will be walking out missing an appendage. We have clearance from Hill to be here, someone should inform her we have landed."

The med staff nods collectively and scurries about, leading Natasha and I to a room and pulling a curtain between us.

I collapse my bow and set my quiver by my leg – I'm not going to make their job _that _hard – as the nurse turns to me, mentally scanning my ratty brown t-shirt and fraying sweat pants, frowning slightly. "You escaped jail in _this_?"

I nod silently. The nurse – her name tag reads Michelle - just blinks before instructing me to sit down on the hospital bed and take deep breaths as she presses the stethoscope against my back.

My heart – what little of an actual heart I have left, anyways – and lungs get a clean bill of health, so Michelle informs me that a doctor will be in shortly and leaves.

The doctor is a young, curly haired redhead with bright eyes and an eager smile.

I almost liked her. It almost made me feel bad when she tried to slide the knife out of my boot and I kicked her in the head. _Almost._

Thankfully, another, older doctor I recognize hears the thud and sees the redhead snoring on the floor. He sighs. "Sorry about that. Bailey is new and she was in the bathroom during Clint's speech. I'll call in another doctor right away."

I nod and thank him with a smile.

The new doctor is one I vaguely recognize from my misadventures two years ago. She quickly checks me over, avoiding any weapons, before leading me over to another room and explaining that this was where women's clothes were stored in case of emergency.

I nod silently and step inside, grinning as I see Natasha already elbow deep in the racks of clothes.

"Oh hey!" She smiles. "How did it go?"

"I got the green light." I frown and sigh. "Did have to knock out some poor new kid, though. Went for my ankle. Bailey."

Natasha sighs and shakes her head. "They will learn eventually. Now hurry up and choose." She waves at the racks.

I make my way over and start sifting through the black, black, black, and more black. Pattern, anyone?

**A~A~A**

Eventually I grab clothes I find decent and head to the small bathroom in the back while Natasha locks the doors and vents and changes in the main room.

I had eventually chosen a snug black athletic shirt with dark grey stripes running up the sides, pants like Natasha's, and a shiny new pair of boots with hard toes.

I refit all of my holsters and strap on my quiver and collapsed bow before knocking on the bathroom door. Natasha it's safe to come out, so I walk out and let her survey my outfit. She quickly looks me up and down, nodding once with finality. She's wearing her classic Black Widow cat suit, so somebody must have delivered it.

We quickly reorganize the room and jog out to the main medical waiting room. Everybody, minus my dad, is fully suited up and armed to the teeth. Even my dad has a wicked looking hunting knife on his thigh.

I nod once to Steve to let him know I got cleared and Steve leads us down a few winding hallways to a room labeled _Conference Room 5._

He ushers us all inside and closes the door behind us, the lock clicking into place and the windows going dark with a few taps of a keypad.

"So," I lean back in my chair and prop my feet on the table. "What's our plan?"

"I was hoping you would tell us that, Ms. Stark."

I jump and almost fall out of my chair as I spin to face who spoke.

My heart skips a beat or two and my breath freezes in my throat as I find myself a few feet away from a man who had meant so much to me. A man that helped protect my dad from his own chest.

A man whom I had thought was _dead_.

"Coulson?!"


	12. Chapter 12

**Trying a new POV here, tell me if you like it. **

Chapter 12

_Previously:_

_A man who I thought was dead._

"_Coulson?!"_

Natasha's POV

My blood turned to ice. Coulson – my handler, teacher, and friend – was alive?!

Apparently, because he steps out of the shadows behind Taylor and the reaction is instantaneous. Glass shatters as Steve drops his water glass, Tony jumps up from his chair, swearing vehemently, Bruce looks shocked and his eyes spark emerald, Thor faints, and Clint goes pale and just stares.

"Miss me?" Coulson asks nonchalantly, like he had just been on a milk run, not deceased for five years.

I stand and march up to Coulson, proceeding to do what few are brave enough to do.

Slap him.

"Of course we missed you! We _grieved_ for you! We held a funeral! We waged a _war_ in your name. Steve spiraled into guilt because of those stupid, _stupid_ cards, Tony got drunk and cursed you and everything you ever did because of your last stupid mistake. Thor swore vengeance on his little brother. Bruce locked himself in a lab and when Hulk did come out, he screamed at the sky and howled and smashed. Taylor flew off to…"

"Maine." She supplies.

"Maine and dropped off the grid completely for a week and a half. She then proceeded to lock herself in the lab for another week and build a freaking statue. Of _you_. It's at the Manhattan memorial."

He just raises an eyebrow. "You and Barton?"

I look him in the eyes and make my voice monotone. "You were not there when I had to tell Clint you were dead. You hear the screams, the shouts, or the late-night whimpers we all heard when he woke up in a cold sweat because he saw himself killing you. You also never saw my masks shatter, the bullet holes riddling the gym walls, and you never saw the tears. We CRIED, YOU IMBECILE!" I scream as I curl my fists and stomp my boot like a five year old throwing a temper tantrum.

The noise leaves us all stunned as an uneasy silence settles over the room, the only sound being my labored breathing and someone clicking a pen.

"Okay." Steve starts quietly. "Why don't we all disperse and wait for our blood to cool down? Bruce, Hulk room down the hall and on your left. Lab two floors below that. Taylor, Tony, the labs are open. Barton, you know where to go. Romanoff, you know where the range is. Will someone help me with Thor please?"

Two doctors rush forward and help drag Thor down the hall as we all scurry to our safe places. I storm off towards an empty hospital room, kicking the door closed and sagging onto the bed. I listen to the muffled roars of the Hulk as Bruce lets off some steam and grab a rubber ball off the nightstand and bounce it off the wall.

_Thump._

He is alive.

_Thump._

But we needed something to avenge.

_Thump._

So Fury lied to everyone, even Clint and I, making us go through all that grief just so we would win.

_Thump. _

Sometimes I wonder if his compassion disappeared with his eye.

_Knock. _

I fumble the ball and glance up, sighing as I see an all too familiar head poke through the door.

"Come in."

The door swishes closed and Coulson joins me on the bed, close but not touching. "I'm sorry."

I shake my head. "Wasn't your choice nor your decision. I should be apologizing, not you."

"For what?"

I rub the back of my neck. "Blowing up at you back there. I should have yelled at Fury. Instead I took it all out on you."

He shakes his head. "I could have told you sooner. I should have told you sooner."

"Could, would, should, Phil."

"Pot, kettle."

"Touché."

"So what did I miss?"

"They didn't tell you?"

"Nope." He pops the _p_. "I have been in Tahiti and completely isolated. So spill!" He whines, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

I chuckle and think of what to tell him first.

"Clint is dating now."

"Good for him! Our little hawk has finally grown up. In team or out of team?"

"In the team."

He smiles, but his brow furrows. "You?"

"Nah."

"Then who?"

"Stark."

Phil blinks at me slowly before shifting awkwardly. "I did not know he swung that way. Um…"

I look at him oddly before I realize what that sounded like. "No! Oh god no. Not _Tony_." I shudder. "_Taylor. _Taylor Stark. His daughter, remember?"

Recognition dawns over his face. "Oh. That makes much more sense." He thinks for a moment. "I can totally see that. And may I just say, that is adorable."

I nod. "It is, was, and always will be. But please do not become a Clint + Taylor shipper slash fanboy. They already have like twenty in the PR department at the tower, they do not need you too."

"I would not do that!" he protests.

"I watched you while you were sleeping." I mimic him in a very good imitation of an awkward Phil Coulson.

"I corrected myself." he mumbles.

"Doesn't mean you didn't scar poor Steve?"

He perks up. "First name basis, eh? Explain. Explain _everything._"

I do. I explain about the cards, the bloodstained cards, about how I woke Clint back up, and how we all – every single one of us – rallied and fought for our country, our city, and our lives.

Then I told of how, in the year between Manhattan and London, we warmed up to each other, letting our shield lower and our walls crumble. London itself was a rollercoaster of emotions. He nodded with understanding as I introduced Zygones. He visibly paled at the missile attack and diversion. He frowned when I mentioned the Paris car crash, although he was smiling at Taylor's antics just before that. He laughed as I mentioned the birth of the Sparrow. His eyes were full of fury as I got to Tony's kidnapping. He winced and rubbed at his chest when I brought up Loki. He whimpered when I told of Taylor's accident and smiled when I brought up the new arm. He snarled when I explained Fury and the split from S.H.I.E.L.D. His eye twinkle when I bring up the Paris vacation.

And then comes Utah. He grins as I explain about Clint and Taylor's 'not date', openly laughing when I recount their first kiss. He groans and clutches at the bed sheets when I hesitantly describe Taylor's kidnapping. I think I see tears in his eyes while I tell him about Clint's-almost sacrifice. His eyes light up as I describe Asgard and then darken as I get to Utah. He mutters about how Loki is a psychopathic snake as I retell his monologue to Taylor – including the jab at her mother – and he facepalms when she crash lands in the lake. He cheers loudly when he dies, though.

He almost falls off the bed laughing as I describe the Bobbi incident about six months ago, cheering Taylor on the entire time.

"So now we get here. Over the past week and a half, the Avengers have been stolen from, lied to, mislead, chased out of house and home, sent into hiding, and then dragged back out again. Only to be put into a prison in Germany, where Taylor woke up screaming. She did learn how to fly a Quinjet, though."

Phil chuckles. "Well, at least you've been busy. Now, about those moles…"

"Agent Pierce is the current leader of HYDRA, which has been growing inside S.H.I.E.L.D. Now, we believe that an attack-"

As if on cue, an explosion rips through the air.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Taylor's POV

The explosion makes me stab myself in the thumb with a screw.

After Tasha's little tirade, my dad and I had retreated to one of the labs to bury our troubles in blueprints. We didn't have either of our suits, so I handed my dad a pistol and refused to quit until he could hit at least a few inches off target. He still doesn't have – and will probably never have – the aim of Clint, I, or Natasha, but he is a fairly decent shot.

After we were done with that, we each huddled at a workstation and just tinkered. I didn't exactly know what I was building, but I thought it was a wind-up Pinocchio toy.

So when the explosion shook the lab, the screwdriver slipped, I swore, and poor Pinocchio lost an eye. I him aside as I shakily stand, trying to ignore how the ship was vibrating beneath my feet, and go over to help my dad up from where he was sprawled a few feet away from his own work station.

"You okay?" I have to shout to be heard above the alarms wailing and flashing all throughout the ship.

My dad just nods as he brushes himself off. I expand my bow and notch an arrow, quickly checking for all my knives and guns before leading my dad out into the hall. We slowly make our way down to the bridge, the main control room being the designated meeting point. My stance is not unlike that of a sniper or soldier on patrol, taking quick, short, quiet steps and slowly rotating around my dad.

Eventually we reach the control room, and I shove my dad in before backing in and slamming the door behind me, the locks and re-enforcements immediately encasing it. I take a moment to catch my breath as I slowly turn on my heel, never relaxing my grip on my notched bow.

My muscles loosen a hair's breath as I am greeted with Steve, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, Thor, Coulson, and Fury; all in full battle gear, fully armed and on guard. Bruce even has a gun at his hip; I assume that, like my dad, he was subject to an impromptu shooting lesson.

We all just stare for a second as we let the adrenaline fade slightly as to avoid any rash decisions.

Steve taps his fingers against the rim of his shield as he breaks the silence. "I assume everybody heard that."

"That?" I drawl. "Could have been Clint snoring in the vents – do not think I do not hear you, hawk – or it could have been the _freaking explosion._"

"I'll take option B for two hundred." my dad retorts with equally dry humor.

Everybody falls silent as eight pairs of eyes and a ninth single eye all glare at us.

I rub the back of my neck and keep my eyes on my shuffling feet. "Right. Sorry, not the time. Carry on."

Fury sighs irritably and runs a hand over his face. "What I want to know is why in the world a team that forcibly split from my command-"

"-we were fired-"

"-comes crawling back years later, when they are supposed to be fugitives, and are welcomed back with open arms!"

I sigh. "I assume you were informed of recent events, yes?"

"Of course, Ms. Stark, this _is _my agency."

"And there's your problem. Director Fury, about half your agency wants your head on a silver platter right about now. We did not _want_ to come back, we _needed _to. HYDRA has teamed up with the Council, and we both know that they hate us with a burning passion. The power and influence of the Council plus the technology and numbers of HYDRA…"

"…equals bad news for all of us." he sighs.

I nod. "Right. So I suggest you stop hunting us," I wave a hand to indicate the team, "and start helping us. I don't know about you, but I will be using the adage 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend.' At least for now."

Director Fury looks at me for a second with something unreadable in his eye – was that awe? – before nodding and sticking out a hand. I allow a small smile as I step forward and shake it.

"I vote Taylor as our negotiator." my dad speaks up from behind me.

I look over my shoulder to see my team nodding and watching me with shock. I roll my eyes as I head back to my spot next to my dad.

"Well, now that we have that settled." Coulson speaks up, "What are we going to do about the attack that is probably in progress as we speak?"

Oh. Right, attack.

Steve looks at Coulson. "Can you pull up blueprints of the ship?"

Coulson nods as presses a few buttons on one of the consoles, causing a holographic layout of the Hellicarrier to pop up above the table.

"Right. Starks, find your way to the tech department, which is right here. Taylor, you have arrows that can shut down computers, correct?"

I nod.

"Use those. Find the main server and shut it all down. Director Fury, will the turbines run on reserve power if the servers go down?"

"Yes. Completely different systems there."

"Good. Barton, use the vents. You're going to be partnered with Taylor. Banner, you and Tony. Keep an eye on them, will you?"

Clint and I nod resolutely.

"Romanoff, you and I are on the ground and a protection bubble around Fury."

Fury glares at Steve.

"Not saying you _need_ protection," Steve backpedals quickly, "but like Taylor said, half your own agency wants to kill you. Would a little backup hurt?"

Director Fury leans back against the wall, seeming to consent. Steve continues shakily.

"Thor, you are our only air support." Dad and I wince. "We need you to try and stay away from the equipment so you do not accidentally smash something that causes the ship to explode. You would be best outside the ship, seeing as HYDRA and the Council both have planes. Are we all clear?"

We all agree.

"Keep an eye out for Pierce and Steel, all of you. Avengers…"

"Assemble!" we all shout.

We all load our weapons and face the barred – and shaking – door.

Coulson presses another button, and the locks recede, the doors opening.

We charge.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Battles are _loud_.

Seriously. Between the explosions, gunfire, screams, shouts, and crashes, I am surprised I haven't gone deaf yet.

"_Beta, how are the tech rooms coming on your front?"_

"_Almost there, Cap!" _I reply as I jump and roll to avoid a flying table.

"_Roger that, Beta. Keep going. Hawkeye is two feet behind you and to the left."_

The comms go silent as I skid to a stop in front of a vault door. I quickly notch an exploding arrow and scoot back a few steps. _"Hawkeye, hold your position!"_

No reply comes, so I assume he listened. I hope he listened, because the arrow was released and an explosion shook the hallway.

I'm left blinking at the dust and debris, my ears ringing and my head pounding. Because of this, I do not hear the rumbling until the hallway starts trembling.

I start to move, but I don't get very far before I'm plowed over by a textbook football tackle, shoving me into the next room just as the hallway collapses into a pile of concrete and twisted metal.

I twist slightly to lift my face off the ground, my rescuer slowly getting off me. Speaking of rescuers, mine has brown hair, a goatee, and a glowing chest…

"Dad?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?"

"Where did you learn how to tackle?"

"Do you think you were the only kid beat up in school?"

I shrug and accept his hand up, brushing off my clothing as I peruse my surroundings.

"Where are we?"

"Um…give me a minute."

The room we landed in is huge, with at least fifteen, maybe twenty, foot ceilings, and huge black blocks about six feet high and two feet wide. A low hum fills the room, and the blocks have multicolored blinking lights and wires-

_Oh_.

I facepalm. "It's official, I am an idiot. We found it. The server room!"

I chuckle as light spreads across my dad's face as he notices his all too familiar surrounding. The he, too, groans and slaps his forehead.

I clear my throat. "Right, can you get me a computer, monitor, and a bunch of network cabling? Go stand watch while I break this open."

"Hey! Why can't I hack it while _you_ go stand watch?" He crosses his arms.

I pause and then nod. "Just don't let your fingers freeze up, old man!" I holler over my shoulder.

"Middle aged!"

I take up position in the doorway, feet spread and head and shoulders back, bow primed and notched. I probably look the most threatening a nineteen year old can.

I idly monitor the buzz and chatter in my ear, it blending with the click-clack of the keyboard to form a melody that very nearly puts me to sleep.

My eyes are about to close when – "Eureka!"

I rush over to my dad and look over his shoulder to see a screen proclaiming _Access Granted _and a bunch of switches and buttons and graphs. The cursor is positioned over a switch that says _Main ship control._

I nod at my dad, who pokes his comm and announces that we were shutting the power in three…two…one…

The room in plunged in darkness – save for two blue circles – as the noise of battle breaks into confused silence. The only sound for a few seconds is my blood roaring in my ears.

Then, from above, I hear a clatter, a thud, and an ungraceful squawk before – for the second time in an hour and a half - I'm on my stomach with another person pinned on top of me.

I wince as my chin hits the floor and bounces, causing a shock to rattle up and down my jaw.

"There you are, Beta!"

I shove the person – Clint – off me as I sit up and rub my cheek. "No _duh_, Hawkeye. You did not just _fall on top of me,_ you doofus."

I can't see much of anything right now, but I would bet money on the guess that Clint just rolled his eyes.

"_Avengers, report!"_

"_Iron Beta reporting in from the server room."_

"_This is Hawkeye, I've got Beta."_

"_Iron Man here, in the server room."_

"_Banner, not Hulk, with Iron Man."_

"_Black Widow is in the dining hall."_

"_Thor?"_

"_Yes, Capitan?"_

"_Never mind. Does anyone have eyes on Coulson, Hill, and/or Fury?"_

"_Indeed!" _We all wince as Thor shouts directly into our ears, then there's a scuffling sound, a muttered curse, and his voice is replaced by a much calmer, quieter voice.

"_Coulson here. Hill, Fury, Thor, and I are all safe in the eastern detention level. Good work everyone."_

"_Don't congratulate us just yet. A battle still needs to be won here. If anyone finds night vision goggles, announce that fact. Move out."_

I nod even though nobody can see me and shakily stand, using what I think is the wall to support my ascent.

"Everyone okay?" I call into the darkness.

I get three murmurs of agreement and I'm just about to let go of the wall when someone grabs my arm.

I do not think, I act; my gun is drawn and loaded with him three seconds, pointing at my assailant's head, or at least in that general area.

"Whoa, easy there Beta. Sorry, it's just me."

I lower my gun, putting it back in my holster and letting Clint draw me a little closer. "Do we have arrows for this?"

"Not yet. But we should. Can we?"

"As soon as we get home. After I make Beta V." I promise as he leads me – somehow – out of the server room and into the hallway.

"Are the blind leading the blind here? How can you see?"

"I can't. But I know this ship with my eyes closed."

"Touché. So where are we headed?"

"Dinning hall. Tables make both good perches and barricades."

I nod silently as I stumble awkwardly through the ship. I guess I'm about to find out what happens when the lights go out on the Hellicarrier.

We eventually shuffle through the doors and are hit by a bigger, more open space that is a little cooler than the previous hallway. The dining room, at last.

Clint nudges me behind what feels like a table and I automatically notch an arrow – one I can't actually _see_, but…principle.

I can hear him crouch next to me as the door breaks open, shaking the room as Clint and I pop up as use the conveniently glowing blue Phase 2 weapons to get a lock on our enemies.

"On your left!" I scream as I watch a booted foot swing towards Clint's stomach.

"Thanks!" Clint says as he back up a step. _"Does anyone have eyes on Pierce?"_

"_Negative, Hawkeye. Keep your eyes open."_

"_Will do, Cap."_

He turns back to me. "How you doing?"

"Good." I duck and fire a gas arrow at a bunch of soldiers, triggering it one it lands and watching as they fall like rocks.

He glances quickly at the crowd quickly closing around us. "We need more cover…"

I blink slowly and wait for a plan to form in my head. "If we end up back to back, that would give us both sides. Twist at the waist to cover a half circle each. Two half circles…"

"Equal a full circle!" I can some shuffling an a few grunts before something presses into my back. I straighten my spine against his, trying to focus on the battle, and definitely not the fact that this is the most body contact we've had. Ever.

I twist and duck beneath his bow range to fire a shrapnel arrow at a crowd of legs, watching the blood splatter the floor.

I take a moment to pause, breathe, and spot my next target as I straighten up against Clint.

People have quickly recovered from the power outage, screams and shouts ruling the air once again.

The noise gets louder and louder, almost reaching a deafening pitch –

"ENOUGH!" A voice commands, not even in a loud tone. Just a commanding one.

Well it works, because everyone freezes. Once the fray stops, I can catch a glimpse of my dad and Bruce over by the east door, Natasha and Coulson against a wall, and Thor, Steve, and Fury fighting by the main door. Well, at least we're all here.

"Enough." The voice says again, still commanding. A bunch of soldiers in the center of the room loosens to reveal a figure standing on Fury's pedestal thing. A familiar, feminine, cloaked figure.

"It's Steel! From jail!" I shout as I notch an arrow and aim it at her, pausing only to think about the fact that _I just recognized someone from jail_.

I shrug it off and straighten my aim, pulling back and steadying.

I fire the arrow, but Steel just sidesteps and fixes me with a curios gaze, her head tipped slightly.

"Now, now Taylor."

I freeze for a second, because _how does she know my name?_, as she pulls back her hood to reveal fair skin, strawberry blond hair, and bright blue eyes.

_Eyes like mine…_something whispers in a corner of my mind.

_Shut up, _I scold it. _I am not the only one in the world with blue eyes._

I turn my attention back to Steel, my cocky, brush-it-off mask in place, complete with a raised eyebrow. "Should I know you? I don't usually associate with psychopaths, sorry."

She laughs, something missing all humor, short, dry, and brittle. "Taylor, Taylor." She _tsk's_ me a few times.

"Is thy any way to talk to your mother?"

**A/N**

**Dun dun dunnnn!**

**The backstory there is in my story **_**Her Eyes, my Everything. **_

**I was thinking of starting a new AU story where the Avengers are all elementary school teachers. After this one, of course, but what would you guys think?**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N**

**Spoilers for the seventh Harry Potter book in here.**

Chapter 14

_She laughs, something missing all humor, short, dry, and brittle. "Taylor, Taylor." She tsk's me a few times._

"_Is that any way to talk to your mother?"_

"_WHAT?!"_

Everything goes still, like the entire ship is shocked.

I whirl around to face my dad, who is pale, wide eyed, and shaking. When he finally finds his voice, he isn't talking to me.

"Rebecca?"

The lady – Rebecca – raises an eyebrow as she looks my dad up and down. "Tony."

"What are you doing here?"

"I have a better question." I cut in. "What the _hell_?"

They both ignore me as Rebecca continues talking, this time to the entire ship. "You have one hour to give us the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. before this ship explodes and kills every single living being on board. One hour."

She disappears with a swish of her cloak, bringing the entire army with her. I glare at my dad expectantly. He opens up his mouth, but I just hold a hand to silence him before spinning on my heel and storming out of the room, trying to ignore the hot tears itching my eyes.

I find a girl's locker room and fling open the door, sinking onto the bench. I rest my elbows on my knees and lay my forehead on my linked fingers.

_Why was this such a shock? _the logical side of my brain asks. _Biology states you have a mother. Somehow._

_But I never _met _mine, _the emotional side counters.

_You knew she was out there somewhere._

_Not necessarily._

_Somewhere, out there, you had a mother._

"Taylor?" a quiet voice asks, and I snap my head up a little and I can hear shuffling on the other side of the door.

"You can come in." I whisper as I drop my head back down.

The door clicks open and someone settles beside me. I immediately recognize the smell of whiskey, motor oil, and expensive cologne. I lift my head a tiny bit to stare at my dad and wait for him to talk.

He combs a hand through his mussed, sweaty hair. "Her name was – _is _– Rebecca."

"I got that."

"She was an amazing girlfriend, but on July fourth, we got a little drunk, and…"

"Okay, stop, stop, I don't need details."

"Anyways, she turned all mean as soon as she found out she was pregnant, She blamed you on me, said that she wasn't ready and I was an idiot. She fought until you were born to get rid of you."

He pauses, and I stare at him with more tears brewing in my eyes. _My own mother did not want me._

"On the day you were born, she gave me an ultimatum: stay with her or keep you. We both know what I chose."

I nod and blink my tears away as he hugs me like I'm five, not nineteen. "Thank you."

"Always, Taylor."

"Was that a Harry Potter reference? Because I hope you know both those people die. You know that, right?" I asks him indecredously as I pull away to face him.

"Shut it, neerrrddd."

_Nerd. _My eyes fly open as that word snags something in my brain.

"Dad?" I say quietly as a maniac smile grows on my face. "I found our genius."

I take off like a rocket down the now lit hallways towards the control room, vaulting over debris and gouged holes. And a corpse or two.

"Guys!" I shout as I slam through the doors. "Guys! Guys! Guys-"

_Slam!_

Right, note to self: you need to stop eventually. Walls, genius.

"I'm okay!" I start to pace. "I know who our mystery genius is."

"Who?" Steve asks from where Bruce is tending a few minor scrapes.

"What do you think of when I say _Stark_?"

"Arrogant."

"Cocky."

"Smart."

"Science."

"Which Stark?"

I look at Steve, Bruce, Clint, and Thor, as I wave off Natasha's question. "No…well, yes, but not exactly." I admit as I begin pacing again.

"Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropists?" my dad casually throws out, a line not expecting to get a bite.

"Right!" I spin to face him. "_Genius._ The genius is the…woman…that was supposed to became Rebecca _Stark._"

Realization dawns on five faces as my dad turns to me, an indignant look overtaking his face. "Hey! How do you-"

"Know that?" He nods. "The keypad to your desk drawer is _Tony _numerical and backwards. You should change it." I turn again as his face deflates and face the team. "HYDRA's second in command, and the agent that took and reprogrammed our robot, is my mother."

Everyone just stares with wide eyes. Natasha snaps out of it first, marching up to me and giving me a small smile as she squeezes my shoulder. "We have fifteen minutes left. Fury and Coulson are safe in an undisclosed bunker. We will radio in when the battle is over. For now, we need to get ready to fight HYDRA, Pierce, and Steel."

I shoot her a thankful glance as she uses _her_ codename. "I do not think it will be us as a team."

The room stares at me like I've just announced I was an alien member of HYDRA, so I backpedal a little bit. "Well, I mean, us fighting as a team, yeah, but…but when the final battle with Steel comes, something tells me it will have to be me or my dad."

Everybody grudgingly sees my point, eventually.

And then a voice echoes out of the loudspeaker. _"I'm baaack! Avengers, come out come out wherever you are. Ready or not, I'm waiting for Director Fury in the control room."_

The voice – Steel – cuts off with a deafening screeching groan as we all stare at each other for a moment before sprinting towards the control room.

"Steel!" I shout as we thunder into the room. "Surrender now, or else!" I prime an arrow and train it on her head.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to disrespect your mother?!" she screams at me as she loads a gun and aims in at the head of an innocent S.H.I.E.L.D. intern.

Those words matched with those actions cause me to _finally_ snap. I angle the arrow down and slightly to the right, releasing it and watching as I flies true, smacking straight into the side of the gun barrel, causing the gun towards friendly lines.

"YOU DON'T GET TO SAY THAT!" I scream. "AND WHILE POINT GUNS AT _INNOCENT PEOPLE!_" I take a deep breath. "You lost all right to say that nineteen years, two months, and five days ago. You lost all right to your child the moment you turned your back on me and my dad, May 30th, 1999."

"But I am still your mother-"

"YOU _LEFT _US!" I scream again, a sob haunting my voice. "You left us…You do not _get_ that, do you? I grew up without a mother, I do not need you now. You are no mother to me. Hell, I can name a Russian redheaded ex-_assassin_ that is more motherly to me than _you._" I can feel Natasha's beaming grin on my back. I glance back at her and my lips quirk up. "So anyways," I turn back to Steel, "you need to stop saying that before I punch you. Or get my dad to do so. Or my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?! You…just…never mind, unimportant. HYDRA, attack!" she screams and the army gathered behind her rages forward, war calls ringing through the ship.

Steel just stands there, arms raised, feet spread in a pose like-

Metal starts flying through the air, hitting her arms and legs, forming gloves and legs and arms. The last piece of sliver metal encases her head, a green circle lighting up her chest.

_My mother has an Iron Man suit._


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

_If I die, Coulson gets my Harry Potter books._

I blink as the thought passes through my head, surprisingly the only non-panic thing as I stare up at an all-sliver, slim, definitely female version of Iron Man and Iron Beta.

She turns her head, the movement startling me into action. I instantly grab my dad and dive behind one of the tables that looks the least like Swiss cheese.

"You fools!" Steel laughs. "You poor, petty fools. I hold the power here. All of it, mine. I am the _real _hero! I have more honor than these old frauds ever will. I have the brains of Hulk, Iron Man, and Iron Beta combined. I have the strength of Capitan America, the aim of Hawkeye, and the stealth of Black Widow. Why do you need _six_ heroes when you have _me_? Rise, minions, and follow my command!"

_Yeah, all of that is quite unlikely, lady._

I can hear whispers float across the ship, agents scurrying and scuffling like mice inside walls.

_Please do not let them go over, please do not let that happen…_

"Are you _insane_?"

I freeze and peek over the table to see the tech I inadvertently saved from my mother earlier standing with his hands on his hips, one foot and hip jutted out in a classic diva pose.

"No, scratch that, I know you are. We do not need or want you here, if that was not clear already. Our heroes are the Avengers, not their washed up, old, insane exes. We will join you the day Capitan America goes to jail for kicking puppies and Iron Man vows never to drink again. Long live Avengers!" he shouts, rallying a cheer from the agents starting to rise around him.

I immediately scramble so that I am crouched next to Steve. "The loyalty is nice and all," I hiss, "but where is our plan?!"

Steve fixes me with an incredulous look. "Again, I do not have one!" he whispers indignantly. "I do not always have a plan! Just…just go and fight and do not die, alright?"

"Right." I agree, taking deep breaths. "Right. We can do this. We got this. We are the Avengers. Earth's Mightiest Heroes. And if we can't save the earth-"

"From my estranged, insane, ex and the mother of my child-" my dad mutters.

"-_you can be damn sure we will avenge it." _I finish with a nod at my dad, pouring as much determination and nobility into my voice as I could.

"I see why the girls followed you through Australia." Steve mutters with admiration gleaming in his eyes.

I smile. "So who is going to go out there with me and help me kick some iron butt?"

They all grin, and then my dad sticks a hand out from next to me. I stack my hand on his, Clint on top of mine, then Natasha, Bruce, Thor, and finally Steve tops the pile.

"One."

My dad and I awkwardly hug around my bow.

"Two."

Clint and I kiss quickly, hopefully not for the last time.

"Three! Go!" We all whisper shout, priming and locking our weapons and tensing every muscle in our bodies.

We stand and leap over the table almost simultaneously, scattering slightly to cover the entire battlefield.

"Hey! Iron Wacko!" I shout unto the crowd. "Come out come out wherever you are!"

I do not get a response; then again, I was not truly expecting one. So instead I settle on releasing an explosive arrow towards a line of HYDRA agents, turning and walking casually away as I press the trigger.

For a moment, I would imagine I looked a bit awesome. Casually walking away with an explosion blazing the background? A lot of awesome right there.

I am snapped out of my daze by a familiar shield rolling to a stop and clattering at my feet.

"_Captain?" _I ask over the comms. _"Where are you?"_

"_A little – grunt – busy at the – thud – moment, Beta."_

"_Oh. I found your shield-"_

"_Okay." _he yelps again and his side of the line goes silent. I gulp but shake myself – he is Captain America, for Thor's sake, he simply cannot be that hurt.

I glance down at the shield before quickly ducking down to pick it up. It's lighter than I expected, and the leather straps are worn but polished at the same time.

I can feel a mischievous smile growing and spreading on my face as an idea blossoms in my head. I clip my bow onto my back, still expanded, as I slip the shield onto my metal arm, flexing my shoulder for a second as I get used to the weight.

I jump onto one of the only tables still upright, raising my vantage point so I can try and find the shield's true owner.

And I do. A flash of blue and red near the northwest corner of the room catches my eye. Unfortunately, I am almost all the way across the room.

A plan doesn't have much time to form, because I soon get company in the form of one of Steel's goons. I quickly remember the shield on my arm and bringing it down in a slashing motion, slicing through the guy's bulletproof vest, then I pull it back and level it against my side, stepping forward to shove the guy off the table.

I then see another agent fighting his way towards me, and I automatically flick my wrist and the shield goes whizzing towards him, his eyes barely widening before he lacks a head. The bloodied shield rebounds off the wall behind him, narrowly missing a few more goons before it is back in my hand.

"_Whoa, Cap!" _my dad exclaims over the radios. _"I did not know you were into decapitating people with your shield."_

"_Um-"_

"_The captain is not in possession of his shield at the moment." _I cut Cap off as I club a goon over the head.

"_Oh." _my dad sounds impressed. _"Carry on."_

I nod even though he probably can't see me and jump off the table, starting to fight my way back through the fray towards Cap.

Captain America is known for utilizing the more Frisbee-like aspects of his shield; whereas I use it more like a circular blade, slicing and blocking instead of catching and measuring rebounds.

I duck under a friendly agent's arm and take the final steps towards Cap, slipping the shield off my arm. "Here!" I shout. "I believethis belongs you."

He nods and smiles, gripping his shield as I grab my bow off my back and notch an arrow.

We charge into battle side by side, fighting in a way that we rarely get too.

Not that I have a problem with it. I'm the most distant with the Captain out of almost all my team members; Natasha is an aunt or motherly figure, Bruce is an uncle, Clint and my dad are obvious, and Thor is a big teddy bear. I know Cap, though, and I respect him; I do sort of mirror his position when leading Jane, Betty, Natasha, and Darcy. I know why he does what he does, even though I might not agree with it.

Like, for instance, I know why he just whacked a head off one of Steel's goons. I agree wholeheartedly with that one.

"Duck!" I shout and fire an arrow at the thug that had a gun pointed towards Cap's temple.

"Thanks, Beta."

"Don't mention it." I grin slightly as I help him up.

"_Has anyone seen Steel lately?" _Clint asks over the comms.

"_No…wait. Yes, I have eyes on her! I can see that проклятые, сын змеи суки…"_

I listen patiently for the next minute or so as Natasha strings together a bunch of colorful Russian words to describe my mother.

"_That's nice sentiment and all, Widow, but you do realize that only Clint and I understand a word of what you just said?"_

"_I know."_

"_Okay then." _Clint cuts in. _"What now? Widow, keep her in your sights."_

"_We need to disable the suit." _my dad offers.

"_How?"_

"_Well…"_ I consider an idea for a moment. _"Iron Man, aren't the suits just big, complex computers?"_

"_Almost everything is, on a basic level."_

"_So, if either Hawkeye or I find a decent shot, we can deactivate her with our computer arrows?"_

"_Right." _my dad agrees. _"Fire directly at the reactor."_

"_Got it." _I drown out the rest of the conversation as I scan the room for perches.

Then I look up, and a light bulb goes off. For some reason, the dining room ceiling has rafters.

"Cap!" I whirl around. "I need a leg up!"

Steve looks at me, looks up, and back at me again before tilting his shield and bracing.

I back up a few steps, run, jump, and am rocketed suddenly up, up, up…

I quickly use a grappling arrow to secure a hold on the nearest beam, climbing up the last foot before I'm precariously balanced about fifteen feet in the air on a six inch wide beam.

I gulp and turn so I'm crouched on the balls of my feet with a view of the entire room.

A flash of silver tells me that Steel is flying lower than me, about five feet of the ground, and is about three feet away from Natasha, who is tracking her every move.

I slowly notch a computer disabling arrow and pull it back halfway, steadying my breathing and letting my eyes lock on the target.

"_We need to get her turned around." _I report. _"I've got a clear shot on her back right now, but we need the reactor."_

"_Copy that, Beta." _Natasha signs off and then I can see her moving towards Steel, crossing her path and leading Steel in a certain direction, like a cat and a mouse toy.

Natasha loops Steel around so that she's flying with her front towards me. I immediately mentally thank Natasha as I pull the arrow back the rest of the way.

"_Taking the shot." _I say as I release the arrow, watching as I flies directly towards Steel, grabbing on to the reactor and letting its prongs pierce the suit.

Steel twitches once, twice, and then she begins to fall. I don't really care; five feet won't kill her. Instead, I focus on getting down. I grab another grapping arrow and fire it at the ceiling above me, landing it about five feet in front of me. I fasten it into my bow and lean back, slipping my feet off the rafter and doing a Tarzan style swing over to the crash site.

I tug on my bow at the last second, releasing the arrow and landing neatly on my feet. I quickly join the others in crowding around Steel, her helmet removed.

"She's not dead." Bruce announces as he removes his fingers from her neck. "And she should be waking up any moment now."

I nod. "I have the perfect way to greet her. Can everyone back up and give me some room?"

They all comply even though they have no idea what I'm doing. I put one foot on either side of her knees, taking a regular, old fashioned arrow and pointing it directly at her nose.

"Taylor…"

"I know what I'm doing."

Steel's blue eyes open and I wince – I think I always will, I have the exact same eyes as a madwoman. I quickly recover and internally chuckle as she sees the arrow mere inches from her face.

She draws back with a cat-like hiss. "What are you going to do to me, hero? Go on, kill me. Tarnish your golden reputation."

I shift my grip on the arrow.

"Do it."

I take a deep breath.

"_Kill me!"_

"No." I loosen the bowstring and lower my bow slightly. "And not because I'm worried about my reputation." I look directly into an identical set of eyes, meeting nothing but madness and confusion. "I will let you live because your life in jail will be far worse than death. My dad _was _ready, and now you'll get to see just how wrong you were. I might visit, I might not." I shrug and turn on my heel, my footsteps echoing in the hushed room. I pause just as I reach the doors, throwing a look over my shoulder. "You know what to do with her."

I then shove the door open, letting it slam behind me and shake the room.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

_Deep breaths, Taylor. Breathe, in…and out…_

I inhale deeply as I run my hands through my sweaty, scruffy hair and turn on my heel to pace back across the room. I had blindly walked to a room full of monitors and machines. I did not know what it was; I did not care either.

I hear the door swish open and click shut, and I can hear the padded slow footsteps as another person enters the room.

"I am not going to ask if you are okay." a feminine voice announces.

I nod without looking up from the floor in front of me.

"You are clearly not okay."

I sigh deeply. "Why would I be okay? I just let one of the most wanted criminals in the world run free."

"No," she corrects me, "not running free by any means. She is locked up more than sugar is when Thor is near."

I almost smile as I turn again. "But still, she is not dead, and she should be dead, and I…just…"

"That criminal was also your mother." she points out, and I snap my head up to glare at her. "Not saying that played any role in what happened, but could you really have killed her?"

"She was _not my mother._" I growl. "She left. She hurt my dad, she hurt me, and she will _never _be important to me."

"Okay, okay, okay." she says softly. "I wasn't saying that, Taylor, you know I wasn't."

I let out a half sob, half sigh as I pause in my pacing to bury my face in my hands. "I...just…_god_, Tasha, did I do the right thing?" I beg as the tears start falling.

She walks over and puts her arms around me, and we both slowly sink to the floor. I end up kneeling next to Natasha with my head on her shoulder as she rocks me slightly, letting me cry for the first time since this all started.

"I will never be able to answer that, Taylor. Only you will ever know whether you did the right thing. But you probably did, because I trust you, and I trust your instincts."

My sobs fade into sniffles. "Thanks, Nat. I still wish…"

She nods. "I know. I will not lie; this will haunt you for a long, long time. Some of my kills still keep me up at night."

I groan. "Great. More nightmares."

"At least you're not alone." she points out, and I nod as I lift my head off her shoulder, although I still stay close.

A comfortable silence falls for a few moments as I scrub away the tear trails with the heel of my hand.

"Did you mean what you said?"

"What?"

"During the fight. About…about the 'redhead ex-assassin that is more motherly than _you_!'"

I freeze and study my shoes. "I…sorry. I mean, if you hate that…or me… we can just pretend I never said that, that would probably be best-"

"Taylor."

"And you don't have to date my dad or anything, I just figured that, you know, since-"

"Taylor."

"And this is gonna be awkward now, why did I say that, idiot-"

"_Taylor!"_

I blink and click my jaw shut as Natasha exasperatedly hollers my name.

"I have no issue with that. Honestly, I enjoy it. I _need_ it."

I blink again as she smiles and grabs my hand. "Great." I say once my brain is finished lagging. "I mean, you don't have a relationship with my dad, and I probably won't call you mom-"

"At least not in English."

"Right." I smile at the loophole. "But I care, and so…"

She smiles at all the unspoken words and pulls me into a hug. "Of course, tulip."

"Tulip?"

She shrugs. "I needed something in English."

I laugh slightly. "Okay, then. Thank you, spidey."

"Spidey. Really?"

"мать."

"дочь."

I grin as she says that. I just called _daughter_ by a woman I don't utterly despise.

"Let's hope this goes better than my _last_ mother."

"I promise not to have psychotic tendencies."

"You already do."

"Oh, hush."

I stick my tongue out at her.

She stands and offers me a hand. "Come on. We need to make sure the boys haven't crashed the ship."

I grin and take her hand, hoisting myself up and walking over to collect my bow from where I put it on a table. I click the collapse button and clip it to my belt with my guns and knives and fall in step with Natasha as she walks out into the hall.

We laugh and joke about sarcastic comments made or various antics of my dad's as she steers me towards the med bay.

The moment we walk in the door, I'm swarmed by people in white. I sigh but allow myself to be dragged to a hospital bed and checked over.

They poke, they prod, and they ask annoyingly obvious questions, but they stay at least three inches from all my weapons and sharp things, so I tolerate them.

A wound on my arm is stitched and bandaged, cream is given for a burn on the back of my leg, and I'm sent on my way.

Natasha immediately grabs my metal, uninjured arm and drags me down the hall and into a bigger room.

I'm surrounded again by teammates acting a bit like excited puppies, before they realize I might be hurt and back up sheepishly.

I just laugh and guard my left arm slightly as I hug my dad and steal a quick and wraps my arms around Clint for about double the time of a normal hug.

Someone shoves a paper plate loaded with pizza at me, and I hop onto a bed and dig in, eating like I hadn't seen food in a week.

We all explain our numerous injuries, from burns to stitches to sprains, and complement each other on a battle well fought. Everybody likes how I used a weapon that was not mine, and Bruce suggests making sure that everyone at least gets a concealed carry permit, if we don't already have one, and gets basic hand-to-hand and knife training from Nat, Clint, and I.

"So what now?" I ask as I swallow my last bite.

My dad is the only one with his mouth empty, so he answers. "Well, right now Fury and Coulson are clearing our names and getting all the IGUM files back. Then I have to get the legal department on reclaiming the Tower because S.H.I.E.L.D.'s lawyers don't know crap. Then I make sure the Tower hasn't been demolished, rebuild what needs rebuilding, and finish building suits and we all go back to life as normal."

I grimly smirk. "Even our twisted version of normal won't be normal anymore." I point out.

"True." Steve agrees. "I mean, we _were_ fugitives for about a week, then we found out part of the government was corrupted."

My dad rolls his eyes and groan. "Wow. Way to be pessimists, guys. Really nice. My point is, we gather our stuff and our people and we go home and not have to save the world for a while."

"Unlikely." I snort, but I do agree with him.

_Home. _I can't remember the last time I slept in my own bed.

I have an anniversary to properly celebrate.

Arrows to make, suits to build.

Home sounds good.

But first, I need to go track down a few girls that call themselves my troops.


	18. Chapter 18

"Where are we again?"

"Um….somewhere in Nebraska, I think."

I glance at Bruce as he studies his tablet and then back out the window at...Gretna, Nebraska, I think. Rain pattered against the jet widows and blurred my vision of the small, dusty town. We had tracked Betty, Jane, and Darcy here, but it wasn't easy. Bruce, Dad, and I had to find signals no one even knew existed and hack into some important databases.

I motion for Bruce and Thor to stay in the jet with the pilot while I tug my hood over my head and dash into the rain towards the normal looking, albeit slightly run down, house across the street.

I come to a stop in front of the front door and softly knock one, twice, three times.

About a minute passes, and I'm about to head back to the jet when the door creaks open about an inch and I see a flash of silver.

I take a step back and raise my hands. "Whoa, cool it. I'm not government."

"Taylor?"

"In the flesh."

A pause. "What was Betty drinking in Australia?"

I sigh. "A grasshopper, because she liked green and we thought it would be a funny gag gift."

Another pause. And then the door is flung open and Darcy is hugging the life out of me. I squeeze her back as she mumbles about me being an idiot and scaring her.

I eventually pry her off after profusely apologizing for being an idiot and saving the world and turn towards the doorway.

Betty and Jane are standing there grinning like idiots. I give them each bear hugs, and then scan my three friends for blood or bandages. "Everyone okay? Nothing missing, no extra holes anywhere?"

They all shake their heads. "We're all okay, Taylor." Betty promises me. "We all got out."

I bite my lip and nod slowly. "You better not be hiding something from me. Because, I swear, if you are, I will get my dad and Jarvis to lock you out of the labs for a month. Do not test me, Elizabeth."

"Not fair!" she whines, "I can't extend your name."

I snort and glance at Jane, who is glancing around the porch nervously.

"Thor and Bruce are in the jet." I offer and point through the rain.

Jane's eyes shine and she looks relieved as she and Betty both hug me again before sprinting through the downpour.

I look at Darcy. She holds up a finger. "Give me a second."

I nod as she runs back into the house and emerges about a minute later with a collapsed umbrella.

"Who are geniuses now?" she crows, causing me to almost fall over and suffocate on my laughter.

She moves her thumb to push the button and expand the umbrella, but she hesitates. "Are you _really_ okay?" she asks, her voice soft and serious and grave for once.

I sigh and ruffle my hair. "No. Probably not. But…I will explain, okay?"

She nods and smiles slightly, popping the umbrella and linking her arm with mine as we make our way into the rain.

We take our time getting back to the jet, jumping into puddles and kicking water and snatching the umbrella.

Because sometimes, in the midst of the business meetings and saving the world, I forget the fact that I am still a teenager, and so is Darcy.

Bruce and Thor help us into the jet and toss us towels for our hair. I plop onto one of the overstuffed couches in the jet and have shove Darcy over so I don't become a seat. Betty and Bruce take the couch across from us while Jane gets a recliner and Thor is sprawled on the floor with her socked feet on his stomach.

"So what happened to you three?"

They all look at each other and silently debate who will go first.

"Fine." Jane groans. "Well, starting in the safe house. Bruce had taken us to the basement, you know the one off the kitchen? Yeah. So he took us there and we just sat and waited. We could hear the gunfire." She pauses and they all shiver. I lay a hand on Darcy's shoulder and give her a small grin, sending sympathetic glances towards Betty and Jane.

"What happened next?" Bruce asks softly.

Betty sighs. "Suddenly the lights all went off. We couldn't see a thing, not an inch in front of our noses. We all froze, because we are not trained for this. Well, I am, but Darcy and Jane aren't, and we-"

"Betty." I interrupt. "You're rambling."

"Oh." She blushes slightly. "Well, when the lights came back on, Bruce was gone but nothing else looked like it had been touched. I knew we needed to get out, so I started rooting around for anything to help us. I found a shoe box full of pistols and magazines, and after we got them handed out, we all wormed our way through the basement window-"

"The one near the ceiling?"

She nods. "That one. Then we ran."

"And how'd you end up in a small town in Nebraska?"

"Oh! Can I say this part? Okay. So we walked until we found a little rental car place, and Betty made up this sob story about how she was taking her sister and cousin away from a maniac father and uncle and we needed a car but didn't have enough money. The owner was a nice old grandpa-looking man, and he took the fifty dollars, cash, we had and we got this clunky old station wagon. Like, from the sixties, I swear. We found some Washington State license plates and we replaced the car plates. We switched out driving for a while. By the way, I got my phone taken. And my StarkPod. You owe me one, again." she groans.

I sigh. "I have some extras at home. Remind me to make them untraceable.

Darcy nods, looking pleased. "So then we come across this home. I think it must have been the home of some family of vacationers. Poor saps. Luckily for us, they didn't have a security system. They should really get one." she trails off, frowning slightly.

I nod thoughtfully. "Remind me to send them a system."

"You should have your phone remind you. Much more reliable."

I smile sheepishly and fish my phone out of my pocket.

I type in the notices, and I'm about to put it back as it buzzes.

**Clint: **hey. You done extracting troops yet?

**Me: **hey yourself. Yeah, we went, we found them safely, and we're on our way home.

**Clint: **good. You have any plans tomorrow night?

**Me: **no. Why?

**Clint: ***gasp* you forgot?

**Me: **uh…one second.

"Jarvis, is anything special happening tomorrow?"

"_Affirmative, ma'am. Tomorrow is June twelfth, 2018. Also known as one year since you and Mr. Barton officially became romantically involved."_

"Oh. Okay, right. Thanks, Jarvis."

**Me: **of course not. Psh, why would I do that?

**Clint: **I'm gonna surprise you. Mind wearing a dress?

**Me**: Do I have to?

**Clint: **no, not really, but I'm going fancy.

**Me**: it's a surprise.

**Clint: **okay. Love you, see you soon.

**Me**: love you too.

I pause and stare at my phone.

"Does anyone know where I can get a dress on short notice?"


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N**

**I don't own the song mentioned here, but I do suggest listening to the song while reading the lyrics. It adds something.**

Chapter 19

The door slams behind me as I sprint up the stairs and onto Natasha's floor.

"Natasha!" I yelp as I skid to a stop in her living room. "Help!"

She looks at me over the top of her magazine. "Is someone attacking?"

"No."

"Are you being chased?"

"Nuh uh."

"Then calm down and explain."

I take a deep breath and count to ten. "Do you know what tomorrow is?"

"July 12th."

"Which is…?"

"The day after July 11th and before July 13th?"

"Natasha." I groan. "It's our anniversary."

"Whose?"

"Clint and I. And I told him I had a dress and I don't and I need major help."

"I already knew that before today. But wait here, I think I have one that would look good on you."

I nod miserably and slump onto her couch as she disappears down a hallway. I idly twirl a piece of scrap metal between my fingers as I stress over the next night.

"Found it!" Natasha calls out, and she soon steps into the room with a dress bag slung over her shoulder. "Look."

My eyes widen. The dress is a beautiful purple color, with a dark eggplant sleeveless top that eventually fades to a lavender chiffon and ends just after my knees, longer in the back than it is in the front.

"I have no clue why I bought this." Natasha muses. "It's not really my style."

"What shoes go with it?"

Natasha glances at the dress. "Roman sandals, maybe. Something light."

I groan. "Can't I wear my combat boots?"

Natasha glares at me. "No! Come on, you need to look good for Clint."

"Clint will not care what shoes I wear!"

Natasha huffs. "I'm calling in the cavalry."

Within the next two minutes, Jane, Darcy, and Betty are all gathered in Natasha's living room and debating the styles of shoes I should wear.

"I think it would look cute with the boots!" Darcy insists from behind my shoulder.

"But they are _boots_!" Natasha argues. "And as much as I love practicality, even _I _get dressed up sometimes!"

"And this is her anniversary date." Jane adds.

I sigh and send an exasperated look at Betty, who is looking bewildered and amused at the same time.

I shake my head. "Enough!" They all look like deer in headlights as they remember who is in the room. "I want to wear the boots. Come on, Tasha, they can't look that bad. Please?"

Natasha sighs and loos sheepish as she nods. "Right, sorry. Your date, your outfit. Clint will love it. Now, about your hair…"

**A~A~A**

"You have everything?"

"Knife, knife, bow, grappling arrows, and two guns. Yes, Tasha."

"What about the mace?"

"мать." I groan. "When will you stop worrying?"

She smiles cheekily and snaps my braided shoulder-strap black handbag closed. "When your surname changes to Barton. And not even then."

I groan as my cheeks burn.

"Go, the limo just pulled up. Have fun, дочь." she squeezes my arm with a warm smile as she shoos me out the door.

The chauffer – most likely one of Dad's – steps out and opens the door. I give him a courteous smile as I step inside and smooth down my dress. I almost fail to notice the index card on the seat next to me.

_Dear sparrow, _it reads_,_

_We've made it one year. Can you believe it? I hope you wore a dress, but you look amazing in anything. Trust the driver, he's one of your dad's personal picks. I checked him out twice. _

_See you soon, your hawk._

I laugh at my boyfriend's antics as I sit back and relax, wondering what he has up his sleeve this time.

The driver eventually stops, coming around to help me out. I can see that I'm out doors, on a sidewalk of some kind, and the sidewalk leads to a gazebo looking structure about two and a half yards away.

I wave at the driver as he pulls away from the curb and speeds off. I cautiously make my way towards the gazebo, my boots – I won that argument – quietly shuffling against the pavement.

By the time I'm about a yard and a half away, I can make out a figure standing on the gazebo with his back to me. When I am about three feet away, the figure turns around.

And my lungs and heart – er, reactor – stop working for a second.

Because _oh my god my boyfriend is so freaking gorgeous _in his tailored black suit, white dress shirt, and a purple tie to match the top of my dress. Clint's jaw drops as he sees me, and he quickly shuts it and tries to act nonchalant.

I roll my eyes and quickly ascend the two gazebo stairs, coming to a stop in front of my date for the evening.

"Wow." we both blurt at the same time. I brush a lock of hair behind my ear.

"Clint, you look…amazing."

"And you look…you…I…just…whoa."

I smile at him and kiss him to end his miserable stuttering. "Thank Natasha."

He nods, and then looks down at me. "I hope you like the venue. You up for more dancing under the stars?"

"As much as my feet can take." I agree. "But is that all?"

Clint looks at me for a second, then tips his head back and laughs. "Of course not. I also brought a picnic." He points towards a basket in the corner. "Hope you like ham and cheese sandwiches, because that's as far as my culinary skills go. Outside of breakfast, that is."

I give him a curious look. "Undercover as a line cook in Bolivia for three months. I can make a mean omelet." he explains as he sets out the food.

"Oh. Got any other secret skills I should know about, Mr. Barton?" I tease him as I spread out the blanket.

He pauses for a moment and thinks. "Hmmm...no, I don't think so, Ms. Stark, but I'll consult you when they do."

I snicker as I snatch a sandwich from the basket, pulling my feet under me as I sit on the blanket.

We laugh and joke and manage to talk about everything from the latest Stark tech to the most ridiculous Avengers merchandise and everything in between. I relish in the undivided attention of my boyfriend; I have no doubt he is doing the same.

After we both clean up the food and blanket, he goes over to a small speaker in the corner. He presses a few buttons and a slow song begins to flood the gazebo.

I recognize the song as Christina Perri's _A Thousand Years _as Clint straightens his tie and suit jacket and offers me a hand up. "May I have this dance?"

I nod and accept his hand, letting myself be pulled close, placing one hand on his shoulder and linking the other hand with his as we step in time to the first verse.

_Heart beats fast_

_Colors and promises_

_How to be brave?_

_How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?_

_But watching you stand alone,_

_All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow._

_One step closer_

I smile ear to ear as Clint and I waltz or way around the gazebo, making no specific pattern.

_I have died every day waiting for you_

_Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you_

_For a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more._

I wince at the reality of the chorus. God knows we've done enough dying. Losing limbs, being held captive, and sacrificing ourselves, running from the law, saving a government organization…

Clint sees my face and chuckles, bending down slightly to brush his lips across mine. I grin and lean into him slightly.

_Time stands still_

_Beauty in all she is_

_I will be brave_

_I will not let anything take away_

_What's standing in front of me_

_Every breath_

_Every hour has come to this_

_One step closer_

Clint sings softly along with this verse, placing emphasis on the first two lines. I blush, causing him to laugh openly this time.

_I have died every day waiting for you_

_Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you_

_For a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more._

I laugh as Clint twirls me under his arm, making me dizzy and then roping me back into his arms.

And all along I believed I would find you

_Time has brought your heart to me_

_I have loved you for a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more_

_One step closer_

_One step closer_

I like this verse, seeing as I've loved Clint really since I was fifteen and he was teaching me archery. He was an amazing friend for three years, but something inside still hurt when I saw him admiring other girls.

_I have died every day waiting for you_

_Darling don't be afraid I have loved you_

_For a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more._

Clint dips me suddenly, laughing at my stunned look and spinning me back up once he's composed himself.

_And all along I believed I would find you_

_Time has brought your heart to me_

_I have loved you for a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more._

We both hum the last verse, swaying in place and just appreciating each other for a moment, breathing in the now-silent night air.

Clint is the first one to step back, keeping our hands linked as he leads me over to the railing. He motions for me to wait here, briefly letting go of my hand and going to rummage around behind me. I can hear his exclamation as he finds whatever it is, then he returns with two champagne flukes filled with what smells like ginger ale. He leans back against the railing as lean forward against it, and he begins softly pointing out constellations and sneaking a kiss in between every other one.

"Hey Clint?" I whisper breaking the calm silence.

"Yeah Taylor?"

I look over at him, taking a moment to study him while I gather my words. "Do you…" I sigh. "Do you ever think about the future?"

He seems to consider this for a moment, not even batting an eye at the out of the blue question. "Well…" he begins carefully, "Not really. Not that I don't _want _to, necessarily, but when do I have the time? Between shooting and getting shot at…" he trails off, and I nod at the unspoken words.

"Well, you aren't getting shot at right now. Penny for your thoughts?" I prompt gently as I run a thumb across his knuckles.

He sets down his glass, balancing it on the chipping railing. His eyes take on a thoughtful glaze as he glances at the night stars, then me, back at the stars, and then me again. "I don't know exactly," he begins quietly, "and I dint think anyone ever does. But I do know one thing."

"What's that?"

"It will have you, I guarantee it." he promises.

I grin and blush, but Clint just pulls me in, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing a kiss to my scalp. I lean back against his chest, exhaling and letting pounds of tension gained over the past few weeks just melt away.

A thousand years? Not yet.

But we're on our way.


	20. Chapter 20 (Epilogue)

Chapter 20 (Epilogue)

"Sprocket wrench." I request as I stick out a hand, blindly reaching from underneath the old 1967 Chevy Corvette Stingray.

I pause in my tinkering when nothing lands in my waiting hand. "Sprocket wrench?" I ask again, just in case one of the bots didn't hear me.

Still no response. I sigh as I roll myself out from under the car. "Dummy?"

Then I realize something odd: save for my questions, the lab is silent. No music, no clanking, no bots, no explosions…no nothing.

I stand and grab a rag, wiping the motor oil off my hands. "Jarvis, where is everyone?"

"_The rest of the Avengers seem to be gathered in the communal living room on the fortieth floor, ma'am, along with Miss Ross, Doctor Foster, and Miss Lewis."_

"Right. Thanks, J." I say as I switch off the lights and close up the lab and make my way up a few floors, bypassing vents and elevators because construction still has not been completed from when S.H.I.E.L.D. held our tower hostage.

I thread my way down to the common floor, dodging masses of workers and piles of construction materials.

I eventually reach the right floor, following the sounds of laughter and Darcy squealing. I cautiously open the door and relax once I found where everyone went.

Steve is lounging on the couch watching whatever is on while my dad animatedly tries to explain how TV and movies have progressed since the 20th century. Clint is sitting Indian-style on one of the ottomans while Thor is one again sprawled on the floor, conversing and watching the TV with a level of excitement only he can manage. Jane is seated on the loveseat, using Thor's stomach as a foot rest. Betty is seated next to Jane and talking quietly with Bruce, who is occupying the recliner and watching the scene in front of him with an amused expression. Natasha and Darcy are manning the kitchen, organizing bag of popcorn and chips.

"Did we have a movie night and not tell me?" I demand with mock seriousness.

Everybody freezes and looks at me like a deer looks at headlights. Clint is the first to snap out of it, dragging another ottoman next to him and patting it. "Hey, sparrow! Um, no…I'm not entirely sure what _this_ is." He admits sheepishly.

"We all just…sort of ended up here." My dad explains with a bewildered look on his face. "I was getting coffee."

"I was watching baseball." Steve offers.

"Natasha and I were making cooking experiments!" Darcy calls from the kitchen.

"We were reading." Jane, Betty, and Bruce all supply simultaneously.

"And I was stalking the vents." Clint concludes.

I just blink and shrug, trotting over to the other ottoman and stealing a handful of my dad's popcorn along the way, ducking as he swings a pillow towards my head. I dive onto the ottoman, sending it sliding into Clint, who just braces and grunts as I hit him, laughing and trying to tickle my ribs as I squirm away.

I end up laying half on my ottoman, with my feet hanging off one side and my head in Clint's lap. I turn my eyes to the movie – some nameless old comedy – with half-lidded eyes as Clint plays with my hair.

I'm asleep in five minutes, but I can still feel the peaceful smile on my face.

_Peaceful._ A strange concept, to me; between government agencies, psychotic parents, planning anniversaries, and keeping up with all of the above, I don't get much time to do much of anything else.

Which is why I cherish jumping in puddles, singing my heart out to old rock, and being able to sleep and _breathe _for a moment knowing eight of the best people in the world are behind me.

I have an adorable, loyal boyfriend, an amazing, supportive dad, and six other people that I consider friends – _family, who am I kidding - _ who would step up to the plate for me in a second, just like I have for them.

My mother is in prison; I get that, I really do.

But who needs her?

I found a much better family all on my own, _thank you very much_.

With a little bit of superhero on the side.

**A/N**

**Ta-da! All done.**

**And this will probably be the last book. I can't keep pulling villains out of a hat.**

**But never fear! I will be writing one shots and short stories, and I will be starting a collection of one shots. If you want to see a topic, just review or PM me. Reviews are always welcome.**


	21. MAJOR AUTHOR'S NOTE

**Major Author's note! Important!**

**As of today, it has one year since I started writing my first book, **_**Iron Beta: Life as Tony Stark's Daughter**_**. One year. **

**I would like to give a huge thank-you to every person that's ever reviewed, favorited, or followed any of my stories, because there's actually quite a lot of you and you have **_**no idea **_**how much I appreciate all of you.**

**And now, a quick update. **

_**Iron Beta**_** 'verse (canon!Avengers): **_**Dissension**_**, the latest story in this verse, is coming along smoothly. I am accepting requests for one shots, please PM me if you have a request. And keep reviewing, following, etc.**

_**Saved by the Bell**_** 'verse (teacher AU Avengers): consider this verse on hiatus because my muse for that story died. Sorry for all of you that liked that story, but I am taking requests for other AUs as well. PM me or review with an AU idea.**

_**Whispers in the Dark**_** (canon!Harry Potter): this should be getting updated fairly smoothly. The only problem I have with this is that fact that I am literally getting almost no reviews. Do you guys not like this? What's your stance? PLEASE TELL ME. **

**If anyone has any questions, comments, concerns, suggestions, or the like, please PM me, review, or email me at ironsparrow99 [at symbol] gmail . com. **

**Thanks,**

**IronSparrow99.**


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